Code Geass: Geass Aberration
by S.F.I. Lawrence
Summary: He lives. He could never truly stop watching over the world. But what happens when two beings from outside his universe break his well-laid plans? A Code Geass/Doctor Who crossover. This will be played seriously for the most part. The Empire is reborn...
1. Chapter 1:Alpha

Geass Aberration

A Code Geass crossover

The world was at peace after Lelouch vi Britannia, theatre tyrant and 99th Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire, publicly met his end. There was simply no more dominating figure of hatred to focus upon, and even ethnic hatreds millennia old died down to almost nothing.

In Britannia, the stern but benign Empress Cornelia Li Britannia ruled as queen should (alongside her beloved knight and husband, G.P. Guilford), not a eugenical despot with delusions of deicide; though the old tensions and prejudices remained, they no longer had a stranglehold on governmental policy, and with it, imperialism went down to a sane level. Nobility titles were reinstated, but all nobles must now serve in the Imperial Armed Forces, and titles are now open to Honoraries and non-Britannian born. Although not a member of it, the UFN received extensive rebuilding aid from the Empire, especially Japan and Europe, directed by President Kaguya Sumeragi.

Within Japan, life goes on without the charismatic royal. Ohgi and Villeta have settled down, Ohgi being an MP for Tokyo. Toudou works as Minister of Defense alongside the last surviving Holy Sword. Millay Ashford still works for Hi News (recently got a proposal from Rivalz). Nina Einstein founded an energy and mechanics company, UnitedTech, but is otherwise reclusive. Nunnally vi Britannia works as Domestic Affairs Coordinator, "Zero" faithfully guarding her and presiding over a figure-head position within the Black Knights, their public face. Tamaki runs his club bistro, which is a common stop for veteran Knights to reminisce over past glories. Kallen is now in the Collegiate section of Ashford (works as a test pilot for KMF's), but still mourns Lelouch. And C.C. has gone off on her own… Or perhaps not… Things are beginning to go wrong again, and the world will never be the same…

Post Requiem Turn 1

United States of Japan, September 2nd, 2021; Narita Mountain

Inside the mountain, all was not still. Chambers left to ruin when the JLF evacuated now hummed with the sounds of machinery. Someone had made this place their home.

In the centermost room, monitors glowed and computers whirred. A man sat in the darkness, poring over the vast amount of data flowing in, a scowl firmly in place. Red lights reflected off the screen from under the mane of jet black hair.

Keys tapped, and a video feed of a young woman with light red hair walking around an academy campus popped up on screen. The man's scowl lessened and turned into a wistful ghost of a smile. _So, do you still hate me, Q1?_ He mused. He didn't cut the feed, just moved it over to the periphery, away from the grim news poring in.

A year and a half ago in the Britannian Isles, the French colonial government had finally been brought down, and in its place was a rather enigmatic and diplomatically aggressive republic headed by one Harold Saxon. This new state of "The United Republic of Great Britain and Ireland" had somehow bargained with the Britannian Empire to hand over various occupied territories, including northern France, Norway, and even home territories like Eastern Canada and Panama. In fact, the fledgling state had acquired bases and territories worldwide! Lately, they had been making overtures to get control of certain sakuradite mining rights in the Pacific Isles, as well as land grabs in the Philippines.

The man scowled. _I didn't consider an economically aggressive nation, or a leader who has just as much force of personality as I do. No one can be that persuasive from a nation with so little to bargain with… Not even Schniezel was that good… Which means that he's not using normal or even natural methods. Geass user? No, that can't be; I killed everyone else with those powers when I took down that cult._ He winced, remembering the massacre he had ordered and committed to vent his fury at Shirley Fenette's death. _Hmmph. I should have used them as pawns instead. Oh well. If don't stop this "Britain" then…_

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by slender, porcelain white arms with wool sleeves wrapping around his neck, the distinct smells of mozzarella and fresh tomatoes carried by cool breath wafting up his nostrils. The modulated, pleasant voice of C.C. spoke into his ear. "Can't settle down, even for a day, can you? And here I thought you wanted to get away from it all." A porcelain hand trailed through the black hair.

The man didn't swivel round, just smirked. "What can I say? It always changes. Hawks like to watch movement; I like to watch shifts in global politics. At any rate," his smile fading back to a frown, "I made this world, and feel a responsibility to it. And I don't like some upstart disrupting _my_ world so soon." C.C. withdrew her hand, sardonic smile in place. "I thought you already had a turn playing king _and_ disrupter of the peace. Wasn't that painful enough even with all that power at your fingertips? You just said that the world changes; why is this new power and it's leader any different?"

The man paused, then tapped in some command codes. Pictures of Chancellor Saxon and personal information blinked into existence on the central monitor, and then expanded for the full scope of information. The prodigy's face split into his trademark triumphant leer. "This man doesn't exist. Literally, two years ago he suddenly started showing up in the EU's files, as the man behind the movement for a sovereign territory in the Britannian Isles. Before that, nothing. And the supposedly incontrovertible proof that he existed before two years ago, like birth certificates and schooling? It takes a good eye and an even better system to spot it, but _all_ of that was forged; in fact the only thing that seems real about Saxon besides his physical presence in this world is his wife, Lucy, and even then I'm suspicious of her background. I don't like enigmas, C.C., especially not ones as aggressive as these. So I'll pull some strings and get Jeremiah out of retirement to eliminate this threat as soon as possible. I might even get to know what he is before I slit his throat. After all…" He couldn't finish. The man's leer became a crazed grin, and he threw back his head, laughing insanely out of sadistic euphoria, C.C. rolling her eyes. _There he goes again…_

The manic genius calmed down, still grinning wickedly though, "The Emperor Lelouch still lives, and must always watch over and protect his domain and subjects."

C.C.'s expression reverted to neutral. "What if this Saxon is just a figurehead and it's someone else in the Republic's government doing all this, with the Chancellor executing his plans? What if it's a Geass user who survived the raid, and wants to lure you into a trap? What if—"

Lelouch silenced her with an index finger placed on her lips, crazy grin dialed down to a surprisingly warm smile.

"Stop worrying. It doesn't matter what happens; the Republic will fall, and the world will be at relative peace again."

The erstwhile Emperor leaned back in his seat, his seat, expression pensive. "I was thinking, after this little problem is dealt with, do you think I could stop watching the world the world for awhile???"

C.C.'s eyes widened, hope glimmering in those golden depths. "Shut down this bunker, and leave this mountain? Are you saying that you're willing to _settle down_?" At this point, her eyes both pleaded with him and disbelieved him; Lelouch smiled ruefully. "Yes, Caecilia. That's exactly what I'm suggesting." Inwardly he smiled as she blushed and was generally flustered. _Of all the ways to make a woman happy…_

"I… I'd like that…Thank you…" Emotion filled her voice, making Lelouch smile on the outside as well. _Gotcha'! _"Will this mean you'll stop the evil overlord routine? Please? I know you like doing it, don't lie." Lelouch grimaced. As much as he was loath to admit it, he _did_ enjoy the theatrics that his former roles of Zero and Demon Emperor required, right down to the maniacal laugh. It really _was _therapeutic. Still, C.C. found it irritating and it had scared off Kallen, maybe even broke her heart. Even if that was part of the plan, it still pained him to remember her face at their final meeting before becoming enemies. _It stopped being fun when that happened. Maybe I won't need it for this. Still…_

He sighed. "Okay, the mask comes off as soon as things are back on course." The Witches' face brightened. _I might need Kallen for this if it turns nasty, but I'm not sure that she'll listen to me after all I did. Not to mention that I've been dead for three years…_ He weighed his options, then decided.

"I may need Kallen if Jeremiah fails and my hand is revealed. I'll need my finest pilot if I'm to make war again. Also, this might be a chance for me to make up for what did." He knew the instant the last words were out of his mouth that they sounded ridiculous, even without C.C.'s raised eyebrows. _Nothing can make up for what I did._

"Are you sure she won't kill you? All that Imperial prancing around was bad enough, but then you had yourself killed, right in front of the poor girl, and she couldn't protect you. You know all this, and you think you can talk to her again?"

"She won't, I'm certain of it. She saw me die once; I don't think she could bear to see me die again, even if it would be only temporary. I could expect some punches, then most likely some sobbing into my shoulder." Lelouch said wryly, causing C.C. to raise her eyebrows again.

Recalling that he was supposed to be a gentleman, he asked, "You don't mind me bringing her back, do you? On a personal level, that is. You wouldn't be jealous, would you?" C.C. paused, her eyes defocusing as if remembering something small and indistinct, then smiled. "Not at all, warlock."

Lelouch was about to say something, then his thoughts were stifled, C.C.'s arms dragging him closer for a kiss, lime green hair enveloping them both….

**VWORRP---VWOORRRP---VOREAAAARH—KAJUNK**

Lelouch yelped, C.C. fell off onto the floor. _What the Hell?! _ He wildly swiveled the chair around to face the monitors, downrange proximity detectors going berserk, the klaxons mixing with the unearthly wheezing/groaning of massive engines. Lelouch stared in complete astonishment at the security monitor, the critic in his mind howling in disbelief at the defiance of the laws of physics, while the observer was dumbfounded, theories on who or what this was ceasing to exist, replaced by nebulous alarm: Lower down the slope of Mount Narita (but still within the sphere of control), a tall boxy shape was fading in and out of existence, the light on the top strobing brightly with an unnatural light. The shape became more solid with every fade-out, finally materializing with a resonant **THOOM**. Lelouch kept staring, his mind racing._ A Britannian prototype? No, Britannia doesn't have anything on this scale for teleportation, and neither does the UFN. And if they don't have it, the Republic won't either! So who in Hell is this?! _

He eyed the monitors again, tapping in the code for zooming in. "**Police Public Call Box**" said the glowing yellow letters at the top of the navy blue box.

"So," the now smirking Witch piped up, "are you going to come quietly, O Emperor Fugitive?"

"Ha. This might just be some kind of testing for a new surveillance drone, _whoever _controls it, and whatever weird excuse for camouflage it has. It couldn't _possibly_ be manned; the theoretical equipment to enable this would have to be packed in that frame rather tightly, along with the sensor equipment. In short, you could barely fit a mouse in that box."

That would have settled the matter, and Lelouch would have simply nabbed the box for study. Then the door opened. And then came the man walking out of the box.

Again, the Critic screamed at the lack of feasibility, having an internal temper tantrum; the Observer simply gave a bewildered shrug; even C.C. was visibly flabbergasted. The left eye twitched. "C.C…. I know you're called a Witch because of your Geass powers but…" She shook her head vehemently, eyes wide.

"_Never_ seen anything like this."

Lelouch gritted his teeth as he turned around to look the man over. Dark, spiky brown hair. Worried, angular features. Navy blue suit jacket. Worn down brown overcoat. Red and white sneakers. _What the hell?! How dare he intrude on my outpost?! Well, you're in my hands now, fool._

"Fine then; he's _**MINE**__! _I'll make him regret ever coming here**."**

The Demon Emperor grinned malevolently, and for once, the Witch shared the expression. Lelouch's hands came down on the security controls, manipulating them like an organ; the sound of deploying defenses and Sutherlands launching playing industrial music to his ears…

London, U.K.I.T. Headquarters, Tower of London

This was the heart of the now mighty fortress that was Great Britain, a centralized hub of intelligence gathered world wide. Within this hub, the operators determined events worldwide, a covert British Empire. And now, something they had watched and waited for had just come to pass. Alarms blared, targets were readjusted, and central Japan came into focus. "Sir, its happening! He's here!" The intelligence coordinator called to his superior over the comm, jittering with excitement.

A cool but satisfied voice replied, "Then eliminate him. Leave no witnesses. Leave no evidence. There will be a cover story for any deaths. Now proceed."

And with that, the man smiled and turned to his task.

------Well, so what do you think? It's a bit off the wall, but I intend to play it seriously.

C.C.'s name I dealt with by making the C's not initials but syllables. As for her expression at the end, recall Shion from Higurashi, but with much less batshit insane, and more evil; that's what living with Lelouch for three years will do to you. To any fangirls or those simply concerned, both primary pairings are valid here; recall Kaguya's Court Ladies suggestion. Yes, I've hinted at Lelouch being immortal; that will be explained in detail later. Now would you kindly tell me what you think?


	2. Chapter 2:Beta

Geass Aberration Beta

Post-Requiem Turn 2

Lower Landslide Zone, Narita

The Doctor stepped from his TARDIS, puzzled as to the twilit new world before him. "Something's wrong, very wrong." He muttered, gazing up at the fog enshrouded mountain.

When he had lifted off from London, he had intended to take his rest in a nondescript year, in a nondescript place. And what could be more nondescript but peaceful than rural Japan in 1971? The TARDIS seemed to hum cheerfully in his head at the prospect; just a timeship and her pilot, no monsters, no rogue Time Lords, and no annoying companions…

**Ruuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmbbbbble**

For someplace as easy to get to as central Japan, the time vortex was putting up quite a struggle; the Doctor, losing his balance, flung himself onto the controls, desperately holding on as the timeship lurched wildly. Inside his head, the TARDIS screamed; there was something preventing them from staying within their own timestream, literally dragging the chronobreaker to a certain point, in a certain world. The Doctor braced himself, mentally begging the ship, _No, please don't die again! I don't know if I can pull that power cell stunt more than once! _

The ship moaned that she was trying, but couldn't promise anything.

Sparks flew from the walls, the cloister bell going off. _Hold together just a little longer…_

Then, something odd happened. Red energy began spiraling around the central column, zapping the console. The ship shrieked in alarm, the Doctor's eyes went wide. _This is new._

Psychic energy rolled over him, the voices of countless billions overloading his telepathic senses. Now _he_ was in pain, every cell of gray matter screaming in agony, the Doctor himself wordlessly begging for it to end.

With a lurch, the TARDIS broke through the turbulence and began materializing, the spiraling energy dissipating, the pain blissfully going away for both of them. The Doctor sighed in relief, patting the control board.

_**THOOM**_

He scampered around the console, checking to see where he'd landed. His eyebrows leaped in surprise: They had landed exactly where he had set the coordinates for, central Japan. The TARDIS was showing _when_. The sentient timeship _never_ told him when; she enjoyed tittering too much as the Doctor was forced to ask what year it was from the locals. That meant something serious was happening. Worse, she was showing _two _separate years: 1971, 2021. _What?!_

The Doctor sighed after hearing the mental shrug from his ship, and then decided to do as he's always done: investigate. As he pulled on his longcoat, the timeship mentally poked him, signaling that she had more information. "Now what…" the Doctor muttered, looking at the console's external environment monitor. The first thing that struck him was the abnormal readings on psychic energy which, according to what the TARDIS was telling him, was enveloping the entire planet in a field; within this murky sphere, there were nexi where the energy was most concentrated, the closest of which was within five miles of the landing site. Then came the next piece. The place where they'd landed, Mount Narita, was giving off subterranean readings of a potent unknown radioactive material, as well as trace readings on the surface. His eyebrows skyrocketed. _This keeps getting better and better…_

He pulled his multi-spec scanner out of a compartment, and then pushed the TARDIS doors open.

The mountain had the stench of a battlefield long departed, of blood, of fear, of discharged guns. Echoes of thought fragments drifted through the air, the full spectrum of emotions you'd expect from the aftermath of a particularly bloody battle. The Doctor scowled. His sense of history was nearly perfect. There had been no battles held here for centuries. Even with the latest Dalek invasion, there had been no battle (or slaughter, rather) here. Tokyo, Kyoto, and Osaka, and with them most of the Chiba Prefecture had been exterminated or rounded up by the omnicidal fascists, but while being relatively close to the action, this mountain should have been untouched.

_So why does it feel like Iwo Jima here?_ The Doctor looked around him, hearing not a sound, nettled. Then his ears perked up, the traveler crouching on instinct, to the sound of distant wheels going at full tilt. He stared into the mist, trying to see what kind of vehicle it was to make such a distinctive noise

_**Chhhhiiirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr**__**rrr**__**rrrrrr**__**rrrrr**_

Suddenly, the need to strain his eyes further was unnecessary, as a massive shape tore through the fog. The Doctor swan-dove behind an outcropping, then peered over the edge at the vehicle.

What he saw astonished him.

Standing four meters tall, looming over the outcropping, was a steel giant, a massive electric rifle grasped in the prodigious metal mitts. Green optics glowed from the vehicle's head, floodlights blazing from the shoulders. Looking down, the Doctor spotted what had been making all the noise, and had to fight down a gadgetry wizard's squeal in excitement: Instead of cumbersome treads or traction boots, this thing was zooming around on retractable roller-skates! He couldn't help smiling. _Humans…_ He thought affectionately. Then he realized that this thing was most likely after him, and crouched back down under cover, whipping out the scanner to get himself a better look at what this was.

From behind the outcropping he could hear whirrs, clicks, and hums; this thing was likely examining his TARDIS. He stretched his hand (and the scanner) over the edge blindly, in the general direction of the noise. A brief tone, then he yanked it back under cover. He cocked an eyebrow: the same radioactive substance the ship had detected served as a core element in powering the vehicle; also, he could now call it a vehicle, not a drone, as it was manned. The psionic part of the scanner chirped, showing him that a trace of that weird energy field was present in the pilot's brainwaves. _So what does this mean? Should I try and see if I can look into his thoughts?_

Normally, he wouldn't be able to do such a thing from a distance, but the TARDIS was close by, and could give him a boost with its massive energy reserves. The timeship mentally uttered an affirmative. "Here goes nothing then," the Time Lord muttered.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, reaching into the mind of the pilot…

And slamming right into a psychic wall. A colossal shape loomed over everything in the man's mind, blotting out everything else. From his mental avatar, the Doctor stared half in confusion, half in apprehension at the red light enveloping everything. It was like a stylized **V**, but on closer observation… _An eagle? An eagle flapping its wings?!_

He'd never seen anything like this before. Nevertheless, he moved forward, slowly reaching out the avatar's hand to touch the massive insignia. The moment his index finger made contact with the crimson energy, it all seemed to rush at him, a distinct feeling of anger and surprise storming into his mind like feedback.

Suddenly, he felt something else. Another mind. An entirely separate being. And it was not amused. A huge chessboard materialized under the Time Lord's feet, murkily lit by soft light.

Realizing that he may have stumbled on some form of life, the Doctor began his usual talk for whenever he uncovered such beings. "Hello? Can you hear me? Yes, well, I'm the Doctor and, uh, I'm sorry if I broke in on your mind but—"

_**Shut up. Get out. And if you don't leave, I'll crush you in here. **_

And then a new form loomed over the mental terrain. A massive King piece off a chess board materialized, branded with the same insignia and shining ebony in color. The piece changed, becoming more ornate, like a royal suit of armor crafted from obsidian. The visor over the eyes lifted, and the Doctor found himself scrutinized by coldly angry orbs, irises violet in color, obliterated and changed to something resembling maroon by the burning red sigils.

Despite having run into countless intelligences whose physical _presence_ could reduce a mere mortal to a quivering, gibbering mass and coming off none worse after _defeating_ them, the Doctor suddenly felt the slightest tingle of dread. _No smugness; no irritation at having a Time Lord about to tell its race to get off the planet. It just wants me out, and from the sound of things---_

_**--This was a violation. Stop trying to do that inner monologue. It doesn't work in here. **_

The booming voice interrupted, still sounding angry, but with a little bit of smugness to it. "Well, I'm sorry about doing that to you, but I really didn't know that someone else was in there--" The Doctor tried to explain, but the voice interrupted, brisk and commanding.

_**Now you do. Now get out, and then surrender to the Sutherland pilot. And when I see you, I expect you to explain yourself and your machine. Thus I order you…**_

The king avatar dragged his sword from it's scabbard, then swung it downwards to direct behind the Doctor, a broken gate materializing where it pointed. "Alright, I get the symbolism…" the Time Lord grumbled, turning to leave. The king gave a derisive snort behind him.

The Doctor opened his eyes with a gasp, a rush of nausea causing him to lean against the rock. His brain tingled from the experience. _Just who was that? It seemed very curt, and used human expressions; and I'm not sure that symbol is used anywhere else. But the power of that being…_

His thoughts were interrupted by a whirring, crackling whine. He slowly raised his hands, equally slowly turning round. The electric rifle was right in his face, the Sutherland (?) looming over him. At this range, he'd be dead if he tried to run.

"You will accompany me back to base," said a toneless voice from the mech's speakers. "Do not attempt to escape; even if you manage to evade me, you are now on all the security system's sensors." As if to confirm the pilot's words, the mountain came alive with deploying cameras, taser mounts, and machine gun posts; retractable siege walls made from carbon steel sprung up to form a maze of trenches and paths up the slope.

The Doctor rubbed his palms together and then smiled. "Well, now that you've rolled out the mud and metal carpet, let's get on up there already! Lead on!"

As he started his ascent, the traveler heard the sound of another Sutherland zooming down the slope, and looked around, seeing the mecha heft his timeship over its shoulders, mental squeals of indignation reaching the Doctor's mind. The Sutherland right behind him put a massive arm in front of his face. It's overly large gauntlet clanked menacingly, shooting off sparks; the Doctor realized then that this gauntlet was really a very large, very sharp rappel gun, and the pilot could either kill him or drag him up the slope at his leisure if he tried to escape. "Proceed," droned the pilot. Sighing, the Time Lord kept moving.

Lelouch gasped in exhaustion, falling back in his chair. He tried to speak, then gagged and almost vomited over the security console. Considering that he was far less physically robust than the strange man far below, this was hardly surprising. _Still, I didn't think it'd be THAT much of a strain, dammit._

"Uuuurrrrgghhhh…" was all he could get out, hunched over and physiologically spent, yet that triumphant, slightly mad smile still stretched across his face.

"Can't decide whether you're having a good day or not, Lelouch?" C.C. smiled flirtatiously. "Want me to kiss you better?"

Lelouch held up a single long finger, still coughing, his smile now a full-fledged grin, eyes glimmering in amusement. At this point, his coughs sounded like laughs.

Finally, he was able to speak, "Why not? Aheh-cough-heh. When that man gets up here-cough-, we'll need to put on a little charade. Even with all the security I have, I don't want to risk him getting out knowing who I am. He's strange, but not so strange as to not know who the Demon Emperor is."

C.C. cocked her head to one side. "Do you really need to confront him face-to-face? Doesn't doing this have enough risk attached to it?"

Lelouch's smile faded to a scowl. "This man broke into my head through that pilot's mind, and broke the laws of physics with his machine. I want to know how he did that, and the only way I could get it out of him would be to use Geass. If he's some kind of agent, neither torture nor manipulation could get all that information out of him. Furthermore, _no one breaks into my mind without __**dire**__ consequences._" He snarled, his tone icy. His memory wipe at Charles Di Britannia's hands was humiliating enough. This wasn't going to go unpunished either. C.C. nodded, not without a good deal of understanding this. _He so different when he's angry. He reminds me a good deal of his father when he's like this. Or the warlock he said he would be._

She looked him over. When happy, his eyes were like amethyst and warm hearth fire. Right now, they glowed like molten slag on a battlefield. Those smoldering orbs were boring into the monitor displaying their "guest's" position. As awesome a sight Lelouch was when angered, C.C. needed to calm him down for him to pull this off. At the same time, she liked him better these days when he wasn't gloomed out or role-playing the overlord. So she did the most logical thing.

"Lelouch? Could you turn round?"

The overlord swiveled in his chair to scowl in her direction. "Wha--"

Whatever remark he would have snapped out was stifled and obliterated by the kiss. His eyes widened in surprise; The Critic in his mind roared for him to take it and like it, while the Observer had nothing but praise; they then closed as he let himself enjoy it.

That went on for about half a minute, until C.C. let him have air again.

"Feeling better?"

Lelouch seemed to think it over, and then said, "Tastes like mozzarella." He laughed as the Witch hurled her favorite plush toy at his face. _I think this qualifies as feeling better. _She thought happily.

"Heh. Thanks for bringing me back down to Earth. Certainly is nicer than a slap from Kallen. Now, the plan's the thing…" He said, looking a little bit more like his usual self. Judging by his eyes though, misted slightly from nostalgia, he still missed that slap._ He did like playing with fire didn't he…?_

Lelouch stood, showing off his considerable height, stretched, then walked off towards the wardrobe. "And if the plan's the thing, the play's the thing too," he muttered with a smirk.

Pacific Ocean, 14 miles from Honshu coastline

Wraith squadron was right on schedule, as always. Knightmare frames sped at the speed of sound over the blackening Pacific; 12 Gareths, 2 flight Gloucesters, and a Vincent. The respective 15 KMF's had launched from the submersible aircraft carrier, the RSS _Northumberland_, off the coast of Okinawa, and within 20 minutes had made it to this point. Captain John Galt smiled to himself. Every time they managed a sortie in foreign waters was a success, especially here, where Japanese patrols ran the tightest routes. In this case, a little bit of luck was needed. _And thanks to how Control runs things, we can make our own luck now. _He thought smugly. All British knightmares in this part of the world were the types that the Britannians used; Sutherlands, Gloucesters, Gareths, and even a few Vincents, along with the respective symbols and paint jobs. Therefore, if these mechs were seen, the diplomatic flak would fall straight onto Britannia's shoulders. _And since there's a good chance of us getting in a tussle with the locals…_His smile got wider as he imagined the consequences. Galt was one of those people who watched what his superiors plans resulted in, and pieced together what the eventual goal of these plans were; in this case, the UFN breaking off friendly ties to Britannia and possibly going to war with each other.

He looked at the GPS screen, noting that they'd soon be going overland; for the past half-hour they'd been jetting along close to the surface of the ocean, moving quickly, but not fast enough to risk sucking seawater into the cooling vents. That would change. "All units, move to stratus position, I repeat, move to stratus position." The Captain ordered into his microphone. "Copy that, Wraith Leader, sucking clouds," came the response.

With that, they ascended into the cloud bank, accelerating as they did so. The factsphere cams treated the pilots to the bright lights of Yokohama and with it, the rest of the mixed metropolitan and rural Kanto. "Lucky fing that old LeScratch and Scheasel cleared 'lotta this region back in their pummelin' days, eh? Less fings to risk flying over and ending the whole deal." chuckled one of the pilots over the radio. Galt rolled his eyes, even if he agreed with his subordinate. "Cut the chatter, Bates. We're damn close to Tokyo, and if I may remind you, this is the military center of the USJ." He hissed into the mike, checking the comms channels for any signs that they'd been detected. He sighed when it was apparent nothing was out of order. "Narita now 52 miles," another of the pilots rattled off quietly, "we are now over Tokyo." In spite of himself, Galt couldn't help being impressed by the sight that lay before him through the clouds.

In the past, before the Britannian conquest of Japan, Tokyo was often praised as a most impressive city, a glittering metropolis on the rise standing on its own feet. When the Britannians rebuilt a large part of the city, this was said once more, but not with as much honesty. Although the governing palace, the towering skyscrapers, and the Ashford Academy were beautiful replacements for the old skyline, they didn't feel _right_. Along with being western creations, this colonial architecture looked rather wildly out of place set up against the ghettoes, which were _not_ glittering marvels, and were in various states of disrepair and lopsidedness. When the Second Battle of Tokyo ended in the deploying of the FLEIJA device, much of the Area Capital was obliterated, torn from existence, leaving an immense half-spherical bite in the cityscape. The Royal Civil War didn't help matters, especially after the Demon Emperor had caused Mount Fuji to explosively erupt; millions who were lucky enough to survive both Black Rebellions perished in agony as the sakuradite fueled fire roared over them. Hence the reason why the surrounding regions were increasingly rural and agricultural. After the violent end of the 99th and his rule, both superpowers vigorously rebuilt Tokyo, especially taking in mind the war torn geography. The Japanese part of the Capitol, long neglected and an eyesore, was finally rebuilt to its original state. That still left the distinctive aftermath of FLEIJA however. Instead of awkwardly rebuilding around the crater, the powers built inside and _over _it. Ambitious architects and engineers from all over began building a massive structure that would function as the governing palace, water purification plant, and deep mining center for Tokyo, taking into consideration the now released water table and the fresh strain of sakuradite discovered under the city and dealing with them both. The result was a magnificent tower complex incorporating the designs of both Japan and Britannia, meshed smoothly together over a steel and titanium grid. From where Galt sat, the city was more impressive than the old pictures showed it. _Wonder how that tower's going to collapse when things go south again._ The captain imagined gleefully.

"Narita 40 miles. Orders?" The pilot questioned. Galt stirred from his little daydream to respond. "All wraiths, slow to 100 mph, descend from cloud layer at 15 miles. Slowly." "Copy that Wraith leader." And so Galt watched on, tense with anticipation…

The Doctor and his sense of unnatural tingled at the sight of the bunker entrance before him, both from curiosity as to what lay inside and from his distinct desire to get somewhere warm; at this time of year, the wind and temperature on the higher slope of the mountain were low enough that even the longcoat wasn't enough to shield him. And halfway up the path, it had started to rain. In a manner most tropical; in other words a cloudburst. Seeing the door unguarded, the Time Lord risked scrambling for it. "Well, timetogetoutoftherainthankyouforthestrollseeya!" He gabbled loudly at the knightmare behind him, who lurched in surprise but didn't fire. The Doctor pelted at the door, thanking his luck. _Hah! And I thought this place would be well-staffed, especially with the fortifications and the maintenance needed for those things. Hang on, it can't be this easy…_ Too late Doctor realized even Time Lords could suffer from tempting fate. From the upper stories of the building, four helmeted troopers aimed down at him, cocking their rifles. The doors in front of him parted, revealing two more well armed and armored soldiers covering the traveler. He resignedly raised his hands again, and turned towards the Sutherland, which somehow gave off an air of smugness as it trundled towards him. "Do not try to flout our little system here, "Doctor"; it could get you killed." The familiar voice called from speakers over the bunker. "What's wrong with a little unorthodoxy once in a while, huh?" The Doctor called back. The troopers parted, and then flanked him on either side as he went in.

The bunker was dimly lit with red and blue emergency lights, cloaking much of the halls in shadow. The place was not running on backups, however, the Doctor's well practiced ear told him. He could hear the distant sound of machinery going, and felt the buzz of electronic systems on full power. From what he could see of the building, it looked fairly new, about 2 years old. Some of the equipment and definitely the cottage over the entrance was much older though. In fact, this whole part of the mountain had been almost untouched by the wartear that enveloped the slope below. As he got further into the fortress, the noticed the sound of machinery growing louder and more distinct, the clank of steel parts slamming into each other and being welded together. _Sounds like someone's building an army, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say it's an army of those Sutherland vehicles. Now that I think about it, Sutherland is __**not **__an alien name. Where the __**hell**__ am I?!_

His bewildered thoughts were interrupted by a sudden chattering on one of the troopers' headsets; they were now at a set of steel doors, a security camera gazing down on him.

"You will enter." The lead trooper droned. The Doctor patted himself down in a small attempt at presentability, then strode through the sliding doors.

It was dark inside, lit only by the soft light of computer monitors and a holographic global display. The chairs in front of these displays were all empty, unoccupied. A long metal table stood in the center of the room. The Time Lord looked around for some sign of life in this barren place, trying to place where the mental signatures he kept sensing were in here.

"Confused?" said a low female voice from the shadows. The Doctor whirled round to see who spoke, a metallic _click_ confirming both the voices origin and that he was in danger again. The woman in uniform before him had smooth, oddly timeless features, but was obviously young; her lime green(!) hair was drawn back in braids under the officer's cap she wore, hawk-like eyes peering out. Were it not for the gun in her hand, the Doctor would have thought her pretty. _No maroon eyes and nothing to indicate she's under any kind of control. I suppose she's holding me here til her boss comes out. _"Err, I take it you're not in charge?" The woman answered, gun still trained on her charge. "No, but the man in command here will be with you soon. Now, empty your pockets on that table behind you."

The Doctor thought about protesting to cement the other's perception that he was a ditzy incompetant, but the issue of the loaded weapon caused him to think better of it. So he methodically started clearing out his many pockets, subtly trying to poke into the officer's mind as he did so. So far, he was having no luck. As the red chunk of plastisteel that was the ethetic beam locator smacked into the top, the woman gave a contemptuous snort and moved the gun so that it pointed right at the Doctor's head. "You might as well stop trying to get into my head, Doctor. I'm far more in practice than you are at guarding my mind and attacking others. But please, do keep trying if you feel you must; you'll just get a bullet through yours if you persist." She drawled. The Doctor kept pulling things out, eyes wide, mind racing. _Who in Rassilon's name are these people?! No one on this planet should have powers like this! But I keep sensing human, and nothing but! HOW?! And if this woman isn't in command here, and if the commander is that king piece…How do I keep getting into these messes?_

Raising his mental defenses, he managed to hide his sonic screwdriver up his interior sleeve in case he thought up an escape plan.

Just in time, as the door on the other side of the room slid open. The Doctor had hoped that there'd be more light coming through the doorway so he could both see more of the room, and so that he could see the figure coming through properly. As such, he was out of luck staring at the pitch black abyss across the room. Then he saw a small flicker of red light, and when that vanished, movement. From what little the Doctor could discern, the man that came through was about his height, gaunt, and had a slightly aristocratic tilt to his walk. Of the face, he could make out very little, both from the lack of light and from the hat pulled down over his brow, except for the knife-like glint of teeth: the man was smiling, but it didn't hold any warmth, only spite and a sense that something horrible was going to happen to the recipient. _Ah. Humans…_He thought with a shiver.

The man walked until he was three meters away from his prisoner, still staying in the shadows, and then stopped. A spiderlike gloved hand directed him to sit down. The Doctor remained standing, protesting, "Now hang on, you expect me to sit down ordered by a finger from a man who hasn't told me who he is or why I'm up here in the first place?! Honestly--" The man spoke in a dry, imperious tone, smile vanishing. "Then I order you to sit vocally. NOW." The Doctor sat, surprised at how young the officer sounded. _He can't be much older than 18 years old, and he's wearing the pips that a colonel has! But all the soldiers outside are in their late twenties and thirties by the sound of their voices…Controlled by a pair of psychic prodigies. This keeps getting weirder by the minute. I've got to stop whatever they were tampering with before it gets worse…_

An amused chuckle came from the woman behind him(The Doctor mentally kicked himself for letting his surprise break his guard), and the officer standing across from him, after a tiny nod as if receiving thoughts, smirked as he sat down at the far end of the table, red light briefly reflecting off the metal surface. "Not too far off the mark, Doctor, but I'm afraid this isn't tampering, just a typical black operation. Thank you for the compliment, by the way. But now, I have plenty of questions I wish to ask. I wouldn't advise lying in front of me or Lieutenant Cae when you answer, though. She's rather proficient at reading thoughts, and I will know what she knows."

With a spiteful little smirk of his own, the Doctor imagined both of the adepts as Bond-villain and villainess, making a clear image in his mind. Sure enough, the woman behind him started cackling deep in her throat, which the colonel seemed surprised at, before he started laughing too; again, the Doctor caught a glint of red. "Aha. Fun. Don't expect me to laugh if you keep doing this," the colonel said, tone icing over. "Now, who are you and who do you work for? How does that machine of yours work? How did you break into my head? And what does Time Lord mean? Silence will only force me to use… unconventional methods." The man inclined his head slightly, not quite revealing his face, but making the red lights now constantly dance over the tabletop.

_Time for the reversal._ "How about instead telling me who _you _are and what you're doing in command of a mountaintop tank factory? How about why you're speaking perfect English with a half American, half British accent on the Japanese home island? How about why you're letting me see your lieutenant and your base but you stick to the shadows?" The Doctor rattled off furiously, not giving either of them an opportunity to interrupt, throwing off the goofy exterior to show that hard face that made Daleks shudder in their casings. The result wasn't entirely what he wanted. Although the man looked somewhat alarmed, and he heard a sharp intake of breath from behind him, the officer looked more bemused than anything else. "While I commend you for noticing how out of place I seem to be, I must ask you: American? British? Why do you use such defunct terms? As for who I am, Attaché Colonel Stephen Lamperouge, in command of Narita Knightmare Production Base at your service. I am attached to the Japanese army from the Britannian Armed Forces, along with several others whom constitute the garrison here. Call it a joint project, if you will. As for why I'm keeping my face in shadow, well, let's just say that light is sometimes shed on things best left covered." The colonel gave a nasty smile that glinted in the dark. The Doctor's thoughts whirled in a frenzy. _Britannian? British and American obsolete terms? Knightmare? _"Hang on. You still haven't told me what you're doing up here. That, and aren't you little too young to be a colonel, let alone command an army base? Last I checked, being a psychic prodigy didn't translate into rank. And no, I'm not giving out any answers until you _tell me who you really are._" The Time Lord glared determinedly at the man before him. "He's caught you again." The woman stated at her nettled superior, who clicked his tongue and tutted.

"You had your chance to willingly give me what I needed to know, Doctor. And while many men would sing like a nightingale under gunpoint, you didn't. You asked me earlier, "What's wrong with a little unorthodoxy?". Well then, you're about to see how unusual I am. Caecilia, hold him still." He ordered. Two silken hands clamped down on his shoulders, the grip surprisingly strong, rendering all of his attempts to break free useless, even painful. The Doctor could only stare at the man standing up in front of him, that feeling of dread he had earlier coming back in full force. He finally raised his head so that the light caught his face. The man had elegant, almost regal features, the slight feeling of timelessness that he could see on the girl present on his face, which was wreathed in jet black hair. But what riveted the Doctor's attention was the eyes: They were exactly the same as those of the king avatar, the smoldering red symbols distorted slightly, as if extending through the veins of the eyes; they were filled with malice and outrage, and they seemed to crackle slightly, as if venting raw power. The adept smiled his terrible smile, now wolfen in its ferocity. In a ringing voice that had been used many times before to give commands, so the adept proclaimed, "Lelouch Vi Britannia et Lamperouge commands you, _**Answer the questions I asked!**_

Crimson energy flashed towards the Time Lord, too fast for him to shut his eyes and block it. Immediately his vision was blotted out by the **V-**like symbol. He felt light-headed, almost euphorical. _JK really knew her stuff._ He thought giddily. A commanding voice whispered in his mind.** Obey it, c'mon, you know you want to, it's not so bad, just obey…** Being a person of considerable will, the Doctor huffed at the voice._ No. _

Instantly, hideous pain rushed through him, the voice shouting. **OBEY! OBEY THE COMMAND OF THE KING!!!** The Doctor grimaced in pain, but with effort, tried to shove the symbol back._ Give over! _With mind shattering volume and fury, the voice roared at him to obey. "HUUURRRRFFFFF!!!!! NnnnO!" The voice seemed to physically pummel him in reprisal. Then the Doctor remembered that whenever he spoke the truth, and told people who and what he really was, they didn't believe him. So he decided to simply tell the truth; the blasting voice quieted down to a purr, the euphoria coming back, as if to reward him for his compliance. He did decide to hold back his real name, which earned him an unpleasant prickle and the voice getting testy. The rest however…

"Fine. I am the Doctor, also known as Theta Sigma, also known as Ka Fariq Gatri to a now extinct species, one of the Lords Temporal, Former President of Gallifrey, Chief of the High Council of Time Lords, and the Finder of the Great Key of Rassilon. I no longer am forced to do the bidding of the Council because they are no longer in existence. You could call me a freelancer, a black knight."

For some reason, the "colonel's" eyebrows went up, his face slackening from what he was hearing. The Doctor could sense Caecilia shrug behind him. Lelouch sat down.

The Doctor continued. "I broke into your mind completely by accident when interacting with that symbol in your pilot's mind. Time Lords are limited psychics and telepaths, capable of entering other beings minds and observing them through symbolic imagery. The reason we are called Time Lords is because we are chronosensitive; we see time and alternate dimensions, with the help of our own unique ships. The ship down the slope is one of these, a TARDIS: Time And Relative Dimensions In Space; a timeship that can travel through the temporal vortex and arrive anywhere, anywhen. Its outward appearance is simply a disguise; the inside is about the size of Earth's moon; this is achieved by the inside being in an interconnected pocket dimension. As for your unspoken question, "why", then I was dragged here by the psychic field surrounding the planet. So, are you satisfied?"

By this point, Lelouch was hunched over, looking slightly green, face completely slack, stupefied and completely off-put. By the look of things, aliens hadn't even been an option for who the Doctor was in his logic. Caecilia had walked over and started patting him gently on the shoulder, looking shaken herself. The Doctor couldn't help smiling.

"So how do you like my resume, Colonel?" He asked gleefully.

------Phew, that was long! So, tell me what you think. Give me suggestions. Keep in mind the Doctor's alien biology, before you ask about how the Geass affects him. Next chapter, Lelouch has to face another dragon after stopping his pursuers: Kallen Kouzuki.


	3. Chapter 3: Gamma

Geass Aberration

Chapter **Γ (**Gamma)

Narita Mountain Complex, Global Monitor Chamber, 9:02 PM

Lelouch Vi Britannia, Emperor of Shadows and Master of Lies felt ill. The being that sat grinning impishly before him could be telling nothing but the truth, judging from the utter lack of resistance or pain when he spoke of all those incredible things. And that broke his world, shattering his perception of the universe at large in an instant.

Throughout his 21 years on that globe, he had never had an extensive curiosity or great wonder for what lay beyond; his world revolved around politics, warfare, and vengeance. Only for a short time before his mother's assassination, at 9 years old, had he ever expressed any sort of interest in those distant spheres and the things that inhabited them, reading several serious books on the subject. He also occasionally visited the Royal Observatory with Nunnally and Lady Marianne, marveling at all those places science might let man visit one day. Logic prompted him to suppose that if Britannia advanced far enough in his own lifetime (which was likely, with all this talk of sakuradite and even tidbits about experimental battle robots reaching his ears), there was a slight possibility that those beyond would come to his world out of curiosity, giving him a chance to maybe talk with one of them. The young Lelouch would have liked to become like his older brother Schniezel, a patron of science and a tactical genius at the same time, a boon to Britannia and humanity. Unfortunately, the death of his mother and the crippling of Nunnally destroyed almost all of his idealism, so that anything that did not directly affect him and his sister went into the peripheral, the academic, the _irrelevant_. From then on, even as the master of war, Zero, brilliant as he was by that point, he couldn't bring himself to give a damn about those things unearthly and too far away to affect his campaign of revenge from the helm of the Black Knights. The only unearthly things that he allowed into his life were Geass and C.C., one vital to his work, the other vital to his sanity; now another unearthly thing was intruding into his life and threatening to break both.

"Well? What do you think?" asked the creature, looking rather pleased with himself. _He knows my name! Dammit, he knows my name! In that case…_ Lelouch wrestled with his vocal cords, forcing them to create some kind of response that wouldn't leave him feeling like a complete moron with no control over the situation. "So…. So, what are you going to do now?" he also wrestled his face back under control. "Unless you can stop bullets, I believe that I still hold the high ground here, alien ex-politician or not." _And knowing my name doesn't change anything, not if you don't know the history of this world._ He thought smugly.

The Doctor grimaced. "Ohh, did you have to call me that? I really don't like politicians, not at all. They smile too much, promise too much, and lie too much! I'm just everything they're not! Really Lelouch, that's practically an insult!" the Time Lord whined, waving his hands. "I mean, really--" He stopped when Lelouch snapped his fingers. The exile leaned over the table, glaring at the Chronarch. "Once again, what are you going to do? You're not fooling anyone, Doctor. I know who you are now, and yes, you have quite a resume. Quite a useful resume too; I'd draft you into my service and maybe let you go, but for one small problem: _You know I'm here. _And for that,_ you're never leaving this bunker._" He steepled his fingers, giving a smoldering look over them. "You're my prisoner now, Doctor; it's only for my consideration of your usefulness that I haven't shot you out of hand." He hissed. Lelouch expected the alien to look either fearful or sternly dignified at this edict. Instead, the Doctor rolled his eyes with a sigh, looking bored. "You military types are so boring with your attempts to command the unknown. It's a bit silly, really. Even sillier is that you're not even really a military type, are you, Lelouch Vi Britannia et Lamperouge? What, did you think I'd forget that dramatic little pronouncement? Blimey, but you sound like some kind of nobleman. And if the United States of America never came to be, then you'd be some lost scion to a noble house within the British Empire, wouldn't you? Am I right?"

Lelouch sighed with a wan smile, C.C. sitting down and peering at the Time Lord, intrigued at the intuitive leaps. His mind raced. _Dammit, there goes my first guise! Alright, try and get past this one._ "I suppose that since you're never leaving this place, I can tell you _some_ about myself and why I'm here, but don't expect to be able to demand whatever information I do not wish to tell you. Now then, you're almost right; I am indeed a nobleman, but not to the British Empire, no, I don't know why you keep using that name, to the Britannian Empire."

"So why are you in hiding then? And why do I get the feeling that 'Vi Britannia' connotes that you're not just a nobleman in hiding, but a royal? 'Of Britannia', of the whole empire, sounds suspiciously more important than just a knight or duke." The Doctor interrupted as the other paused for breath, giving the man across the table a piercing look. Lelouch winced. _Damn. There goes trying to pass off as just a nobleman with odd powers. He still doesn't know I was Emperor yet, though, that's one thing. _"How observant of you, Doctor," He said irritably. "Fine. Lelouch Vi Britannia, 11th Prince of the Empire, 17th in line to the throne, at your service." He paused, glaring at the Doctor, who just smiled and indicated at him to continue. " As for why I'm here with a sizable contingent of Britannian troops and knightmares, I was exiled because of my coup d'état bid for the throne three years ago, which ended in disaster and my apparent death, and for my power of Geass, the power of absolute command, as you can attest to feeling it's effects. This is why you saw me take the avatar of a king when you broke into my mind. Just a foolish, hopeless ambition, that's all." He gave a sigh, as sorrowful as he could make it, C.C. helping the charade by putting a comforting arm on his shoulder. Inside his head, the Critic was applauding, the Observer urging caution, and as for himself, smiling widely. _I've finally got you! No more intuitive leaps, Doctor! Now…_ The Doctor raised an eyebrow, then spoke. "You're still not answering my question: What are you doing here? Why all that monitoring equipment and a supercomputer? Why are you churning out more of those knightmares? Surely you don't plan to try and take the throne again, do you? That really is hopeless, and someone as apparently brilliant as you should know that!"

Again, the Doctor was proving to be annoyingly and dangerously persistent. Desperate measures were called for. "Do you really think I'm silly enough to try to take on a superpower again after only three years? No, I simply want to make sure that the world recovers smoothly from my revolt, that countries and lives reform cleanly, the pain I caused to be resolved. The old Emperor may be dead, and an adequate successor taking his place, but that doesn't change what happened. So many were killed in my war with Britannia, so many countries were disrupted by both sides machinations, that I want to make sure it never happens again, that the world will remain at peace." Lelouch proclaimed, every word for once completely honest, from his heart. "The troops and armor I command are a last resort measure, but soon I fear they must be used again to stop a new power from breaking the balance." Again, the Doctor raised a hand, looking bemused. "You seem to have much higher minded plans and ideals than some ambitious prince, Lelouch. You weren't just revolting for the throne, were you? By the sound of it, you were rebelling so that you could _change_ things that you thought the Empire was doing wrong. And by how you talk, you wanted to make things better, didn't you?" He laughed merrily, and then gamboled over to the Prince's side to shake his hand enthusiastically. "Why didn't you tell me this in the first place? You didn't need those disguises to talk to me! If you want help, I'll gladly give it to you!" Lelouch and C.C. stared at the man, dumbfounded. Thoughts raced back and forth between them. _Is he a madman? __**No, just a guy that likes good intentions, apparently. **__So are we going to let him work with us? This carries a great deal of risk, Lelouch…__**I know, which is why I can't let him out of here, and I can't let him anywhere near the news media. Otherwise, I think I can keep up this whole pretension of who I was easily. **_

"Very well, Doctor. I thank you. Now, do you wish to know anything further?" the Shadow Emperor said, as graciously as he could manage.

"Two more things, and a demand, your Highness: How did you get that power, and who are we going to stop?" the Time Lord asked, leaning back to scrutinize the ruler sternly. "And as a Time Lord, I order that the instant that we are finished, that you find some way to free all those soldiers you've taken over; I'm willing to tolerate this for now, but I've never approved of enslavement, and this is not an exception. I'll follow your rules if you follow mine. Do you agree to this?"

The sovereign paused for a moment, then answered. "Yes, Doctor, I'll release them one way or another." This was the truth, but he conveniently left out the detail of Jeremiah's Geass canceller. It wouldn't do for the Doctor to know that he already had the power to de-Geass his servants. "As for my powers…" Lelouch pointed at C.C., who raised an eyebrow at how truthful Lelouch could be in a situation like this. "When my life was threatened, she gave me the power to save myself and accelerate my plans for rebellion. C.C. is what is called a Geass Witch, immortal and invincible, as well as capable of granting other powers to whoever she chooses. She is my most loyal friend and attendant, and has been instrumental in keeping me in the coherent state I am in today. I 'd most likely be dead or in an insane asylum without her." He said fondly. C.C. adjusted her cap slightly as the Doctor reached out a hand to shake hers. "A pleasure to meet you, miss…?" "C.C.; only Lelouch may call me by the other name you heard." She answered curtly, unsmiling. The Doctor gave a nervous cough, then shook her hand. "Now then, you asked as to who we need to bring to a halt; that would be the Republic of Great Britain and Ireland, led by--" _**THHRRRAAAAAACCKKKK—BOOM**_

**Γ**

Narita, 9:20 PM, Operation Beacon Fires

The Knightmares descended from the heavens under the machine pistol fire sent up by the resident knight police, looking all the world like fallen angels illuminated by the gunfire, the bullets pinging off their shields and armor. Then the Gareths fired back. Great swathes of fiery death and destruction were cut into town and its defenders below, vorpal bursts of concentrated hadrons burning through steel, concrete and flesh. More knightmares, Sutherlands and Akatsukis, raced down from the mountain, those equipped taking flight while the rest unloaded their arsenals from the ground. Those that flew charged right for the Gareths, knowing that they were almost exclusively ranged units that could never hope to match them in close combat.

They forgot about the other three knightmares that _were_ suited to fighting that sort of fight. A Sutherland raised his hammer, ready to smash in the head of the Gawain-knockoff blazing at the town in front of him, only to be speared from the side through the cockpit and torn in half by a Gloucester. A Gekka with a saw-sword attempted to bisect another, only to be torn to pieces by the ebony Vincent. Two more flight Sutherlands charged a fire team of Gareths from their flanks, confident that their slash harkens would finally bring down at least one of these death dealers. They were proved fatally wrong as the knightmares snatched the cords of the rappels, then yanked their prey right into their heavily modified claws, finally falling to the ground like so many pieces of scrap. The Gareths continued on towards the outskirts, burning their way towards the mountains.

Galt frowned as he sliced apart a burai that had tried shooting him down from an office building. _There shouldn't be this much resistance here. The most I expected to go up against were a few knight police and__** maybe**__ some Akatsukis, but a whole garrison of mixed units?! What the hell have I stumbled onto?! Some kind of black project? A secret army base? Well, I suppose we'll have to destroy __**whatever's**__ protecting that alien scum. And we'll have to do it quickly, too. _He looked over at the status readouts of his squadron, noting that while they still had plenty of energy left, several Knightmares were losing shields and weapons, getting holes in their armor plating, and in one unfortunate Gareth's case, loss of flight. The pilot gallantly charged up Narita's slope, firing his remaining weapons at the defenses. _He's too far in to call back, but he might be alright; the mountain doesn't seem to have that many guns in place. Maybe… Oh HELL NO! _ Galt realized far too late that the lack of guns was deliberate as the gareth was ripped apart by simultaneously deploying machine guns and mortar turrets. Gritting his teeth, the captain swung his knightmare around to face the slope, now bristling with weaponry. "All units, disengage the suppression of the settlement and focus on the objective! We must eliminate the target as quickly as possible! Obliterate the Narita fortifications; Leave this bloody mountain an inferno! Now, RULE BRITANNIA!!!" He bellowed into the mike. "RULE BRITANNIA!" howled his men. Every one of the knightmares sped towards the mountain, bloody revenge fueling their resolve. Had they not been so focused on their target, they would have taken note of the curiously withdrawing garrison of knightmares…

**Γ**

"Wait, you want to challenge these people in person?! Why?! Shouldn't you be directing the defenses from that room instead of setting it on automated?" The Doctor squawked as he jogged alongside the royal, managing a steady pace even with the tunnels shaking under the sustained fire. On that note, the Doctor wondered why his host wasn't running either, but marching at a brisk pace, face stony. They were moving towards a higher level of the fortress, apparently towards a hanger bay. Without turning around, the overlord answered him. "They knocked on my door, and I'm obligated as master of the house to answer them. They want to see me? Well, they're going to see me. Right before I tear them limb from limb for doing this." He said, more than a little bit of malice present in his tone. The Doctor couldn't exactly blame him since he saw what the enemy had done outside, and he wasn't exactly pleased either. Reluctantly (for he'd never admit this in his previous guises), he spoke again. "And also to stop the losses my men are receiving." A few rockets hit the bunker, causing plaster and concrete to clatter down from the ceiling. "What kind of weapon do you have that can break through that shielding? High caliber rounds, rockets, tonfas; none of them could break through, and I doubt that trap of yours is going to work again. So what cards do you have up your sleeves now, Lelouch?" The Doctor added in a puzzled tone at seeing the prince smile mischievously, putting a hand on the steel double doors. "You're about to find out." He then tapped in the entry code on the lock, and the doors parted.

**Γ**

The hanger was lit to varying degrees of brightness, appeared to have the top equipment, but wasn't that large. _He has a personal hanger? Or is this some kind of storage room?_ There were a few motorcycles, a humvee, an elevator… and three gigantic knightmare frames. Two appeared to be kneeling on their skids, the third clamped firmly into place, the holding apparatus covered by a thin layer of dust. The one closest to him had a smooth, feminine look to it, accentuated by the titanium mesh cloak surrounding it like a greatcoat fused with a medieval royal cape; The whole thing was deep purple in color with green trim, the crown-like headdress ( which operated as a range-finder and antenna) made of chrome over the black face plate. C.C. walked over to the frame, and then looked at the Doctor. "Mine." She said, opening up the loudly orange cockpit.

The Doctor looked over at the most brightly lit part of the hanger, marveling over the powerful looking Knightmare sitting there. Jet black armor with white underplating; powerful servos and military grade joints made thing _look_ flexible. The black plating was flanged, but was kept close to the under plating. The metal face of the giant was blood red in color, its three violet optics dormant; it was adorned with a black helmet resembling that of a medieval Kyushu soldier. In the center of its chest was what looked like a steel bellflower emblem, serving as the covering for a large factsphere. But the primary feature of this flying war machine was the octuple array of movable railguns, making the thing look more than a little spiderish from a certain angle. Lelouch walked to the center of the hanger, then gave a theatrical point towards the ebony knightmare, smiling deviously. "This is the NKR-01 _Nobunaga_, the most powerful knightmare frame yet devised by man! It has an almost unbreakable shield that can deflect physical blows as well as energy attacks, and is highly maneuverable. Furthermore, it has a special function which I may let you see. Maybe, eh hehehehehehhh… But now you must see what you are to pilot yourself." He snapped his fingers, illuminating the shadowy hulk restrained in a corner of the hanger.

It was dark green in color and seemed to be in what looked like a fetal position; from what little the Doctor could see of its gray steel head, it had only one optic, large and yellow, strong cables running down into the main body. The armor plating on the prototype was at least five inches thick, constructed of titanium-steel alloy; through the gaps in the armor could be seen what looked like lead. The monstrosity's arms were huge, segmented wonders with surprisingly dexterous looking hands poking out from metal sleeves. "Doctor, this is the AKF/R-04 radworks vehicle. It's called _**Boléro**_. It has very strong armor, so even a novice like you will be able to absorb a great deal of damage and still keep coming. It's weaponry consists of four poseable slash harken launchers and two arm mounted radiation cannons; from the initial tests, you should know however--" A hail of bullets sliced through the sheet metal of the hanger door, shredding through the man's shoulder and arm to ping off the _Bolero_. The Doctor ran over to the still-standing Lelouch, who had a look of pained concentration on his face, holding up his undamaged arm when the Time Lord got closer. "Doctor, C.C., scramble already. I 'm perfectly fine."

"Perfectly fine?! Your arm almost got blown off, and you say you're perfectly karking **fine**?!!" The Doctor howled, becoming even more confused when he glanced towards the now condescendingly smirking Witch.

_**CRACK GKLK KRUK**__ "I thought I told you to scramble, Doctorrr... _

The Chronarch turned back towards Lelouch and the unpleasant sound, then ran towards the Knightmare frame to break it out, the sight burned into his mind: The Prince was smiling, every tooth visible, his eyes burning with a psychotic glee, his arm wrenching itself back into place; behind him, _Nobunaga_ activated, it's violet eyes gleaming in the flickering lights. As many scarier sights the Doctor had seen in his long life-time, he didn't want to be in the presence of this one any longer.

Breaking the restraints was a simple matter, as was getting into the behemoth. Any other being untested would've been completely befuddled by the mess of controls, but to the Doctor, it was natural. "All systems online. Radiation capacitors at normal pre-op settings. Float boosters aligned… Everything's working perfectly." the Time Lord rattled off.

"Deflection matrix at 100% efficiency rate; burning stars up and charging; uplink at full synchronization with defense network... You really had the techs look over these, didn't you Lelouch?" The Witch murmured into the white screens.

"Railgun multiple array centralization complete; Druid-system functioning; Alternate systems, heh, fully aligned." The Shadow Emperor grinned. "Soooo… Rook! Bishop! Are you ready for a fun, rain soaked, napalm-purified evening? I'm feeling a little stir-crazy, aren't you, Caecilia? Doctor, are your ready to play the avenging angel? Bring down those who have killed needlessly? Well, _**are you ready to follow MY rules?**_"

The Doctor closed his eyes, let out a heavy sigh, then brought up the Face, that of the wrathful God. He grasped the handles, knuckles white. "Yes, your Majesty." He hissed. "Good. Ah, I don't think we'll have to wait much longer."

One of the Gareths outside was blasting its way in with the hadrons, the door melting and warping, molten light playing over the visages of the knightmares. "Lelouch, do you bring up that attitude, that… smile deliberately or…" The Doctor asked.

"Didn't I tell you? I'm a little crazy."

The door burst, engulfing the hanger in flames…

Sorry about the shortness, but I've had a great deal of work and distractions. So, what do you think? Please read, and _Please_ review. You're going to get a dose of Orange and Red Lotus next time…


	4. Chapter 4: Delta

Geass Aberration **Δ** (Delta)

Post-Requiem Turn 4

Narita, Ground Zero; 9:35 PM

Lance corporal Bates ground his teeth at the mountain before him, blasting at what he suspected was a hanger. _Bloody xenos and their traps! Why'd they have to kill poor Eddy like that? A bazooka round would've been nicer. I 'spose war isn't fair though, which is why I'm gonna blow these weirdoes to kingdom come!_

The Wraith Gareth truly was a magnificent weapon. Four machine cannons positioned to grind anything that got in their line of fire to tiny bits of slag. Eight slash harkens to spear mid-range targets and yank them in for the kill. Six rocket launchers (nine telescoping rounds for each), equally perfect for strafing runs at both buildings and armor. Retrofitted titanium talons that could cut through armor like a knife does warm cheese. And then there was the most infamous part of its arsenal, the arm-mounted concentrated hadron cannons. These deathdealers could tear through just about anything in seconds, and had the same effectiveness on metal as a flamethrower did flesh. Only the strongest shields could stand up to it, and so far, the defenders of Narita didn't appear to have these.

_This IS good! Doesn't matter how many blokes you've got on the ground, how thick your plating is, I'm gonna burn you all DOWN!_ Bates thought savagely as he fired another concentrated blast at the doors, which disintegrated in a thermonuclear inferno, sending large chunks of rock and earth boiling down the mountain. Secondary explosions could be seen inside the building as whatever vehicles were there had their gas tanks blown. The LC punched the air in triumph, his knightmare dancing a mid-air jig. Galt snarled at him to quit goofing around and look into that hellhole for an entrance into the facility. He grumbled a bit, but went to look anyway. He was level with the smoldering hole when he noticed something was off. Something in there was blurrily displacing the smoke, an odd shimmer sort of like a bubble; there were also multicolored lights burning through the miasma, purple, yellow, and green. He pondered over these lights for a moment, then realized, far too late: _Knightmares!_

**FSCHHHHCHTTTT**

Six bolts of white-hot light burned into his shields, the radiation alarms blaring in his ears. Bates fired every weapon at the mobile brick chickenhouse that zoomed towards him, knocking it back into the smoke as the now very unnerved LC backed away. "Captin', we've got new contacts--" _**TSUIILLLLLlllllCHHCT! CHHCT!**_

Two projectiles slammed into his shields like thunderbolts, the sheer power of the impacts causing the very air displaced to dent the armor behind the barrier, flinging the floating fortress backwards in an uncontrollable spiral. Shields were down to 63% integrity, the radiation continuing to gnaw away at them. Bates howled, tried to reorient his knightmare to face the powerful new contacts emerging like Horsemen of the Apocalypse from the fires. The brickhouse on the right looked barely singed, and it was FLYING! The one to the far left seemed to almost dance through the air with ethereal grace, its long staff glowing with offensive power. The one in the middle seemed to be the one that had fired those powerful shots, as two of its spider-like appendages were now crackling with magnetic charge. This one in particular was scaring Bates out of his wits. It outright looked demonic, a trailing cape of black float net billowing out behind it (beginning to form two separate wings), the spider guns seeming to randomly swivel and point, little arcs of electricity trailing across the convection blades; it's long hands were clawed, looked like they'd fire slash harkens, and were currently rubbing themselves together with a grinding noise, as if it was personally looking forward to ripping him to shreds. Suddenly, it pointed at its victim, and the purple Knightmare whirled forward terrifyingly fast, its staff blazing.

The LC roared in defiance as he fired everything at the fragile looking vehicle. To say that didn't work would be a colossal understatement. The bullets hit, but instead of tearing through the plating, just bounced off; the rockets didn't hit at all, instead being deflected by a pixilating field to explode away at a safe distance; the hadron blast was absorbed into glowing spheres which detached from under its coat. As the knightmare drew back its staff arm, Bates could only say, "Oh bugger."

**Δ**

Lelouch had to fight back a giggle as he watched C.C. punt the Gareth with the kinetic strike rod, the unfortunate wraith tumbling through the air to crash into one of the trenches downrange. "One down, 13 to go. Shall I proceed to the next target?" C.C. asked softly. Lelouch shook his head, schooling his thoughts back to that of "Zero" the genius tactician as opposed to Lelouch the madman; as fun as insanity and immaturity could be, they were worthless in the combat zone. "No R1, go to support; only strike if you must. We'll carry out most of the objective. B-1, you're with me. R1 will weaken their shields, and we will eliminate them. Both phases of the counter offensive must be completed within ten minutes. There must be at least five hostiles left before the second phase begins. In case you're wondering, the _Bolero_'s rate of fire and firepower improve the longer it's in action; it's a bit of a drawback, but from what the tests tell me, it should get very powerful." Lelouch gave out various orders, feeling for the first time in years, himself. He gave a sad smile. _So this is where I belong, the battlefield. Small wonder that I felt restless trapped in that bunker. I thought it was an unspoken rule for retired generals to simply 'fade away' in peace, to enjoy their remaining years in civilian life with their grateful wives. _He closed his eyes with a light grimace._ Forgive me Caecilia, but I cannot fulfill my promise to you…_His mind went deeper into itself, the Critic and Observer frantically calling after him as he began following a mysterious sound, repeating over and over. **Tappa-ta-tap. Tappa-ta-tap. Tappa-ta-tap-TAPPA-TA-TAP!** The Drums, the Drums of War, the Smile to match his own. _**TAPPA-TA---**_

"LELOUCH VI BRITANNIA!! EARTH TO OVERLORD!?" the Doctor shouted through the comms system. Lelouch jumped, eyes flashing open; he yanked the mike to his now bared teeth, snarling into it, "Youwill address me as Checkmate, B1, or so help me, I'll use you as target practice!_ They cannot know I'm alive! _"

"Alright, I get it, I get it! Checkmate, you said from what the 'tests' show you? Are you saying this thing hasn't been piloted before?" Lelouch took a deep breath before answering, maneuvering the Nobunaga out of the way of a missile barrage. "I'm afraid so. The _Bolero_ uses an experimental sakuradite/uranium core, basically making the knightmare a mobile nuclear reactor; it's perfectly clean, but it cannot stay online for long, or its cooling processes will fail and we'll have a meltdown on our hands. This is why this whole operation can only last ten minutes. Now, do you have anything _else_ to say?"

The obsidian knightmare targeted four of the offending Gareths, and then fired two consecutive blasts into each, pounding their shields. One of the Spec ops Gloucesters flew behind the reeling deathdealers, rose up, and swung its lance down to point at their enemies. "And here we… GO."

**Δ**

All three of the experimentals opened fire at once. The _Morgana_'s burning stars flew out and attached themselves to the Gareths, each one discharging a pulse of concussive energy, nearly buckling their shields; the _Nobunaga_ aimed shots at seven of the platforms, the last shot directed towards the Vincent's head, while the _Bolero_ strafed the Gloucester and the three Gareths not targeted with short bursts of radioactive fire, it's huge arms punching the air furiously. At the same time, the Gareths sent forth a torrent of fire at them, as they were still roughly within 15 meters of each other, seeking to concentrate their attack and possibly destroy all three at once; the Gloucesters joined in, throwing chaos grenades over their prey to bombard them from behind, making sure that they were pinned down.

"R1, left 30 meters! B1, up and right 53 meters, continue firing!" Lelouch barked into the mike, driving the huge knightmare downwards toward the mountainside. The concerted firepower of the enemy drove over him and into the mountaintop, obliterating it in an instant; great gouts of steam jetted up along the entire slope, a massive cloud now obscuring the entire battlefield.

Lelouch smirked. He had indeed thought that the hostiles would try eliminating him by engulfing the three in a focused wave of fire, that a well-timed dodge would cause the assembled firepower to hit the mountainside; He had remembered how when he had this facility worked into the entire mountain, he'd made sure there were at least three points that the enemy could hit and cause all of the little rivulets and groundwater the mountain possessed to vent, providing him and what soldiers were stationed there the ability to escape. He'd also figured that any assault on his fortress would involve a bombardment of its defenses lasting several minutes, sufficient to heat up at least the side of the mountain facing the attack (this was the other part of why he wasn't moving that fast, aside from his physique); the fact that it was raining could only help matters, as the rivulets would swell. He liked it when a plan came together…

"Nice work Checkmate. You've finally executed a foresight plan that hasn't chewed your leg off yet. Do you want to make that 'yet' go away now?" C.C. said with a little bit of appraisal. "I believe I would, R1. What say you, B1?"

"Certi**iizzzzuillllssssssooooooo…**" Static and feedback blotted out his reply.

_Damn. I forgot about the radiation spreading with the fog. Well, it won't be immediately lethal with the sakuradite mixed in, but… _Lelouch sighed. His men, still loyally following him under his thrall, would have to deal with radiation burns and poisoning. He felt a slight pang of guilt. Not even Lelouch, cruel as he could be, would subject anyone to radiation damage or poison gas. The deranged euphoria rose again, but the shadow was able to force it down with effort, resulting in a scowl with the corners of his mouth twitching. _I always give both enemy and ally a quick, merciful death. I see little need to prolong suffering— at least, no longer than necessary… _He shook his head, trying to clear it, and not quite succeeding. _Urggghh… I need to get help before this gets worse. Maybe a doctor…_

"HELLO HELLO HELLO? THIS IS B1 SPEAKING! ARE YOU RECEIVING, CHECKMATE?"

Again, Lelouch was startled out of a mental vagary, this time slamming the back of his head into the metal plating above the seat cushion, which painfully succeeded in clearing it. "Gahhhh… What's the situation, B1? And could you stop yelling into the damn mike?" he hissed, rubbing the back of his head.

"Sorry, just testing the stronger frequency. I've got a small problem: these two knightmares aren't giving up, and they continue to hit me with everything they have. Worse, one of their rappel guns managed to punch through the lead casing; I'm trying to get it under control, but I don't think the containment can last much longer without me shutting it down, and even then, I'm not sure the reactor will stop. At the very least, I'll try to make the explosion as small as I can. I'm sorry."

Off in the distance Lelouch could see multiple starbursts, the result of the _Bolero_'s promised growth in firepower, along with the sanguine flashes of the gareths' hadron cannons. He let out a frustrated growl, and then began to move his knightmare towards the fight, to maybe give the Doctor some breathing room. "B1, I am not a man who takes sacrifice lightly. You will eject before it explodes, no heroics; am I understood? I am not losing any more of my subordinates, especially not one as potentially valuable as you. I repeat, _do you understand me?!_" he rasped into the mike. There was a silence on the other end, save for the hiss of static, then the Doctor replied, "Understood, Checkmate. I'll do my best to take as many of these crooks out at the same time, though. B1, out." The channel closed, the Doctor having shut off his radio. _You don't sacrifice a bishop for two pawns… Oh well. Time to buckle down and start annihilating these scum._

The _Nobunaga_ lurched forward through the fog, its factsphere finally unsheathing to blaze a sanguine red light. Radioactive and electromagnetic traces glared red and white against the blue and yellow haze, bright lights in a sea of energy. Lelouch's lip curled into a satisfied smirk. Part of why he'd had the Doctor take the _Bolero_ instead of one of the Vincent wards is because he needed, for want of a better term, a radiation painter for the battle ahead. Someone to mark the targets, so that he could detect them through the cloud. "Never was fond of the hunt…hehhehehheheheh…" his smirk widened into a grin as he keyed in the algorithms to target the knightmares slowly creeping up on his position, as if he couldn't see them at all. There were four of them in total, the black Vincent leading the other three, two arms aimed for each. _The Eye of Nobunaga lures them closer, and the Eye dooms them._ He brought his hands down on the controls…

**Δ**

_**TSSSSUUUIIIIIIILLLLCHHCHHCT! CHACHT!**_

Captain John Galt was _not_ a happy man at the moment. His squadron was in disarray, he was facing a new batch of experimental knightmares, and he was facing them in a radiation-tainted cloud. And he was most likely about to lose even more men to the monster floating before him. So when the railgun rounds hit his shields, flinging his Vincent backward, the alarms blaring, it didn't improve his mood. He gripped the handholds for the mech, white-knuckled, his face contorted into an infuriated snarl. "W-Who the hell is he?! WHO?!!" He yanked the mike to his mouth. "Lister! Fielding! Close in on the target! Don't let him use those cannons! Crane! Muldoon! Close in and finish that flying brick already!" He started flying in an erratic pattern, not unlike a housefly, firing his VARIS rifle at the great spidery shape, his men racing forward, their guns blazing, their talons drawn. The black Knightmare lurched backwards, cape wings billowing behind it, its arms and hands spread wide in what looked like an expression of welcome.

The Gareths rose up, then fired their slash harkens in unison, seemingly breaking through the prototypes' shields; they slammed into its chest armor, appearing to stick, sparks flying from the underplating. Then every pilot on the battlefield heard something, a sound breaking through the static, through the noise: Laughter. Low, mocking, deep throated, it rose in pitch and volume, speeding up, cracking as it reached its apex and becoming totally demented.

Galt's eyes went wide. He had heard that from the earliest mission files of the Black Knights(appropriated of course by MI-4), there had been reports and little footnotes speaking in awe of "the spirit of war laughing in their ears" at the times when they had inflicted crushing losses on Britannian forces. When he read these, he'd chuckled himself, marveling at how superstitious the Japanese still were; he'd thought that it was either some attempt to add drama to their stories, or just a credence to how cracked some men can get in battle. Except that they had added a description as to how it sounded; a description matching almost exactly the one he was hearing. His blood went cold when he remembered something else: the spirit of war was another name for the founder of the Black Knights, the original Zero.

In the distorted voice of the infamous revolutionary, the knightmare's pilot spoke. "_You thought this was going to be easy, didn't you? Pathetic. When you go up against a sleeping demon_," The monster's long fingers clanked and sparked menacingly, "You don't go against him piecemeal!" Its fingers sprang outward on long aramid-fiber cables, a mix of slash harken and tentacle, twisting and ensnaring those of the gareths, yanking them forward and pulling the blades out of the _Nobunaga_'s armor. Cables snapped, launchers were ripped out, but the Gareths continued firing. The fingers lashed out, one knightmare getting speared through the shoulder, the other receiving huge gouges across its chest. The one unfortunate enough to get speared([Lister]) was dragged forward, expending his missiles in a futile attempt to break free, then grappled with the fingers using his talons. The knightmare was brought within five meters of the other, ceasing to struggle as a blade was rearranged to perforate its drive system. The pilot watched helplessly as the _Nobunaga_'s cannons all targeted him, and then _fused _together in pairs; this left four very powerful guns aimed at the exact same point.

"_HEEEEELLLLP"---__**TSSSUUIII-FSHSCCHHTKKkkk**_

There was nothing left of the knightmare. Nothing but fire and shrapnel, which rained down on all present. The captain stared, speechless, at the monster now spreading its arms and fingers wide, as if to say "what are you going to do now?"

From his radio, Galt heard panicked shouts, from _all_ of the Gareths attacking the prototypes.

**Δ**

Where the _Morgana_ was, two beleaguered Gareths and a Gloucester were trying their best not to get crushed, let alone destroy the dancing freak before them. The pilot seemed to enjoy playing with them, alternating between swiping at them, tapping on their armor just enough to dent it and frying their shields with the burning stars. They managed to knock out a couple of these devices, but their enemy seemed to have plenty more at her disposal. Finally, one of the wraiths had enough, and launched a volley of slash harkens at the dancing knightmare. The witch gracefully spun around the points, then grappled onto the cords, spiraling down them until she was right in the gareth's face. She put a hand under its chin… then knocked it off with the KSR, sending it to clatter away in the trenches. The enraged wraith attacked blindly with its machine guns and claws; the _Morgana_ struck again, grabbing the platform and with sharp kick, drove it downwards. The array pulsed, and the plummeting wraith was torn to shreds by coordinated machine gun and RPG fire. The glittering mech seemed to lazily drift onto its side, appearing to luxuriate on a cushion of air, head resting on a crooked arm, staff pointing languidly at the two remaining knightmares. They couldn't decide whether they were shaking from anger or from fear. "Checkmate, this is too easy…"

**THWOOOOMMMMMMM**

The Doctor was hunched over in his seat, trying his best to keep the radioactive contamination redirected away from his body. So far, that was the only aspect of this situation he had full control over. Containment was now almost completely out of the question; one of the wraiths had launched the last of his missiles in a barrage that had cracked the casing all over the _Bolero_, and shunting more power into the arms wouldn't do him much good. He had to think of something quickly, or he'd be a charred corpse long before the reactor went. And then he noticed something after the mech lurched from another attack. From what the read-outs were telling him, whenever the wraiths attacked using the hadron cannons, the wave of particles actually seemed to coagulate around where the radiation leakage was occurring, giving the Doctor time to shunt power away before it dissipated. _If I can grapple one of these things while it's charging those guns, I might be able to dampen the explosion. Well, here goes nothing._ One of the wraiths dove towards him, hadron cannons building power. It was then, or he wouldn't get another chance. _Now!_ He squeezed the trigger.

SSSSSSRRRIIIIISSSHHHHHHHHHHHHH*CHANK*

The slash grappler speared it just below the cockpit, an inch away from the power conversion structure; the Doctor yanked it forwards so that it slammed right into _Bolero_'s side, the radiation killing the pilot almost instantly. A muted scream of agony reached his mind, the Doctor silently apologizing, steeling his will for the second time. The second, one-armed Gareth([Muldoon for those curious]) chose to use the fog to his advantage, dodging and weaving as he scored hits with the machine guns, firing short bursts with his single hadron blaster directly at weakened sections of the knightmare's armor, causing them to boil and warp. Bullets snapped through cables. Concentrated hadrons burned through lead, causing it to melt and warp like candle wax. The _Bolero_ launched blast after blast after it, trying to bring down its shields, the wraith continuing to respond in kind. The Time Lord managed to get a lock on him, and then fired the slash grappler; the harpoon slammed right on target, drawing it inexorably towards the flying reactor. Suddenly, the need to expend power dragging the knightmare ceased as it began charging straight for him, the cable going limp. The Doctor frantically tried to move the _Bolero_ backwards, but it was too late. The Gareth wound back its arm, and then slammed his claw right through the casing, into the reactor. Gamma-level rads blasted through the knightmare, the pilot letting out a roar of triumph as he was roasted. The Doctor hissed in frustration, watching the power levels drop, then start spiking wildly. _No, I am not going to let this thing lay waste to this area. There has to be something I can do!_

In the distance, the Doctor could see Lelouch's Nobunaga fighting what looked like the commander and the bulk of his men. Two more wraiths were headed for him, firing concentrated hadron blasts into his shields… and if the Doctor's readouts were accurate, those shields were about to buckle. Five Gareths, a Gloucester, and the Command Vincent were attacking a single Knightmare. Outrageous. This was a situation that needed to be remedied, no, _Doctored_ immediately. That old manic smile began creeping up his face as he lined up the targeting reticules on the closest Gareths. "He wanted me to play by his rules? Well, play by them I shall. They really shouldn't foul up with mine, either…" He pulled the triggers, and the slash grapplers snaked through the air, connecting with both of them right on the control centers, just as they were charging the hadron cannons. As they slammed into the hull of the _Bolero_, the reactor was nearing the end of its tether. After one final adjustment to vent the core through certain areas, the Doctor opened the comms channel. "Checkmate, I'm bailing out. If this doesn't work, well, it's been real. Now stop those knightmares! ALON'ZI!" And with that, he pulled the eject switch.

Δ

Lelouch watched the Time Lord eject, flying off to the far side of the mountain, then turned off the factsphere, also lowering the brightness of the _Nobunaga_'s optics. The next phase of the plan would require his visual systems to be perfectly intact. The Bolero spectacularly detonated in a supernova of sanguine red, green, and white that would have blinded him had he not made those adjustments; he decided to briefly watch the lightshow before moving in for the kill… Which put him wide open for a point-blank strike from a Gareth's hadron guns. "GAH! What the…?!"

**Vector 01 failing. Strike variable 04 dissolving. Plates 06 through 11 offline. Warning: Absolute Protection Territory compromised.** "Shit! Why did I pick now to look at the scenery?!" Lelouch snarled, frantically trying to get the shields back up. Too late. With a teeth-grindingly loud slam, the wounded Gareth's superheated claw collided with the overplating just below the Eye, melting through it into the underplating. The _Nobunaga_'s cannons couldn't fire at a target latched onto its hull without causing extreme damage to itself. Right now, the wraith was boring in, most likely trying to hold it still while the rest of his squadron opened fire. The NKR-01 would most likely not survive such an attack. Yet, for all this likelihood of an imminent obliteration, Lelouch was smiling. Smiling that demented smile which usually meant rapidly approaching misery for his enemies and a crushing victory for himself. His hand rested on a clear plastic covering over a white switch, and then flipped the covering open, index finger lazily preparing to pull the lever back. "So you thought it would be this simple, this easy to kill me? Hmmph…Your death-wish is about to be answered." He hissed softly, closing his eyes as he concentrated. He yanked the switch backward, new systems coming online. "And now your nightmare begins for real!"

The black knightmare suddenly started jerking and shuddering, almost like a seizure, its cannons straightening up, then folding over behind it, almost like a moths' wing covers, the opaque flight net coming down to attach to them, stretching taut. The monsters' left hand flashed behind its hip, dragging something out with a metallic hiss… Then igniting it, the newly materialized partial MVS slicing the wraith's arm off, and then skewering it through the cockpit. As the flight pack shorted out, the rest of the knightmare slid down the blade, slicing its head in half as it limply fell with a crash into the cloud covered trenches. The plating on the monster segmented, pieces alternatively flipping around to point outwards or retracting into the mech, the white underplating becoming prominent, the cockpit visibly shifting as the plates moved. The factsphere bellflower retracted and shifted under the new white sections, which slammed together as they connected. The armor covering the arms split and flanged into frayed sleeve ends, float net stretching across the gaps. The black helmet and shield panels around the head slid inwards or shifted down into a choker around the exposed neck. The Knightmare's gunframe moved with the netting to form a pair of quarter circles; in an instant, all the float netting, all the float panels materializing across the mech's form from the flanging panels, ignited in blinding flash of white. When the brightness subsided somewhat, it was recounted by the huddled, singed survivors in the distance that they had seen a _daitengu_ through the cloud; a Christian thought it resembled a Seraph. Such was the effect of the white float-panel constructed wings which covered its chassis, as well as the projected sensor halo around its third eye. To complete the image, the MVS blade extended into a lance to point towards the invaders.

"Now then, I do believe that now is time for you to surrender. Otherwise, I shall make certain none of you leaves this killing field in pieces large enough to fit in a body bag." The Shadow Emperor said gloatingly into the microphone to be broadcast across the channels. Predictably, the wraiths opened fire, the units near Morgana disengaging to assist. A Gloucester charged straight for him, lance readied, firing its assault rifle from the hip. "For the Empire in the Shadows, go, _Saint George_!" he snapped, manipulating the controls so that the Knightmare was horizontal on its chestplate, MVS lance directed at the lancer's cockpit, right hand extending it's claws as it splayed out wide at it's wing. The angel then drove forward in a blur, impaling its obsolete foe, and then slicing it to shreds piano wire style with the claws, the pieces getting deflected by the anti-grav panels to explode behind it. The squadron formed up, then sent a volley of fire his way, which he dizzyingly corkscrewed around, arm muscles taut with effort and adrenaline. _Now then, the final phase…_

Δ

He drug the control handholds back, and then thrust upwards; so the St. George rose skyward, float wings curved around it's chassis, until it spread them, casting a shape not unlike the Geass symbol. With that, all of the wraiths aimed upwards to punish their enemy for mocking them with a glorified Bat Signal… To be violently interrupted by a hailstorm of machine gun fire from behind. Already riddled with bullets, they tried to turn round to see what this new threat was. It wasn't new at all. At least 15 regular Sutherlands and ten of the new customized Strike Sutherlands raced up at them, guns blazing, floodlights piercing the fog. At that exact moment, the monster and the Witch struck. Barreling down through the cloud bank, the angel tore through the already perforated Gloucester with tremendous force, the pieces acting as skeet for the reinforcements below. Suddenly, a song began playing on all the channels, a song that should have enraptured and soothed those listening… but instead served to terrify them:

_O Freunde, nicht diese Töne!_

_Sondern laßt uns angenehmere anstimmen,_

_und freudenvollere._

_Freude! Freude!_

The Witch slammed her rod down on one wraith, who blocked and tried to hold it back with it's talons, the Angel of Death driving it's lance down on another, the remaining two either frantically trying to keep the Sutherlands back, or in the Vincent's case chasing the Angel. –

_Freude, schöner Götterfunken_

_Tochter aus Elysium,_

_Wir betreten feuertrunken,_

_Himmlische, dein Heiligtum!_

_Deine Zauber binden wieder_

_Was die Mode streng geteilt__;_

_Alle Menschen werden Brüder,_

_Wo dein sanfter Flügel weilt._

-The Witch seized the Gareth by the wrist, then tore off its arm, drawing the KSR back before slamming it forward with extreme force; the cockpit, crushed and dripping blood, was torn from the mech, exploding in flames as the escape jet tanks ruptured. The St. George lashed out at the Vincent with its right hand, driving it off while the finger-blades slashed its shoulder armor to fragments. A malevolent cackle danced across the airwaves as the angel of death raised it's lance, channeling more and more power into it before bringing it in arc down on the wraith's head, shattering most of it as the pilot tried to keep the energy blade from descending further, the servos in the knightmare's arm screaming in protest. The angel then flipped the lance, shattering the Gareth's hand, and with a flick of the wrist slammed it down at an angle to cut apart it's float system before cleaving off the other arm. The creature behind the Seraph's armor could hear the enemy pilot yelling as his broken knightmare descended into the lead maelstrom, then was abruptly silenced. "Now then…" the mastermind drove his angel forward to charge at the final Gareth, whose pilot was nearly out of his mind with fear, rapidly retreating into the thinner regions of fog as he wildly fired his cannons. -

_-__Wem der große Wurf gelungen,_

_Eines Freundes Freund zu sein;_

_Wer ein holdes Weib errungen,_

_Mische seinen Jubel ein!_

_Ja, wer auch nur eine Seele_

_Sein nennt auf dem Erdenrund!_

_Und wer's nie gekonnt, der stehle_

_Weinend sich aus diesem Bund!_

The St. George remorselessly followed, deploying its machine guns to harry the Gareth, to herd it further back… Right out to the edge of the cloud. Immediately, the Sutherland platoon locked onto him, reducing the knightmare to scrap in seconds. The angel watched the glowing embers, and then turned round to face the last enemy, the black Vincent.

_**YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!**_

Lelouch clapped a hand over the receiving ear, watching the Vincent scream towards him, firing his VARIS rifle with abandon, most of the shots going wild, but a few impacted on the St. George's wing-frames. The enemy captain began yelling across the radio again as he started firing the rifle at almost point-blank into the monster. "--Son of a fucking whore! You had help from that Doctor, didn't you? Well guess what, "Zero", after I finish flaying you alive, he's next! And then I'll slaughter every single one of---"

"Do you think I give a damn? Was that supposed to cow me, you incompetent peon? All your men are dead; burnt, crushed, or in little pieces. Now whose fault was this? You led them after me. You attacked my stronghold. I offered you a chance to surrender. Is it suddenly my fault that I retaliated when you opened fire? That's right. _It's all your fault for not considering reality! You should have withdrawn the instant you saw my knightmares!"_ He gloated, adding a mocking chuckle to finish. _Come onnnnn…_

"**NOOO**!!! YOU WILL DIE **NOW**!!!" _YES!_

"You first." The St. George roared forward, lance spitting the VARIS rifle; only the Vincent whipping out an MVS stopped it from bisecting it's arm, and even then, it was taking every iota of pneumatic yield in that arm to keep the lance steady. "You _are _going to die, Captain, but first I'm going to **break** you for what you did to _my_ men. ehehhehehhahehehhhahahahahahahaA_HA_HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!"

The Vincent whipped out the second MVS sword, swinging them so as to knock away that hateful lance and drive into the heart of the unholy machine. In a two-handed stab, the angel sliced downwards, knocking the MVS' to the side, then cutting a semi-circular slash like it was a Zweihander. The Vincent jetted backwards firing a volley of micro-missiles, which the dodged with ease, splaying its right hand again. It then stormed forward, swiping diagonally with the fingerblades; the captain blocked these with the MVS, only to watch them wrap around the sword, yanking him forward as he struggled to keep a grip on it. One knightmare was trying to impale the other.-

_-Freude trinken alle Wesen_

_An den Brüsten der Natur;_

_Alle Guten, alle Bösen_

_Folgen ihrer Rosenspur._

_Küße gab sie uns und Reben,_

_Einen Freund, geprüft im Tod;_

_Wollust ward dem Wurm gegeben,_

_Und der Cherub steht vor Gott.-_

The Vincent fired it's slash harkens right into the wing frames while it readied it's other MVS, causing the fingerblades to bend as the two began to descended into a rapidly accelerating spiral. Right as the Captain was about to stab the other through the cockpit, the angel raised it's lance and thrust under the knightmare's arm, first stopping it from moving downwards, then punching right through its' assault pack. At point-blank range the NKR-01β raked the Vincent's torso armor, some bullets passing right through, through in spots where they would disconnect critical systems, rather than kill the pilot. The lance swung upwards, severing the right arm and causing the flight pack to hang loosely from the other; it gave up on the other arm, instead retracting its blades and slamming its fist right under the cockpit, preventing the Captain from ejecting. The angel brought the lance back, over its shoulder, and with a frictionless boost from the flight wings, hammered down on the unfortunate commander with the blunt side. The cables snapped and the Vincent careened with uncontrollable velocity into the trenches, smashing against and through mud, steel, and downed trees, one limb after another getting torn off, until it came to a stop with a crunch against a destroyed pillbox. The Dark Sovereign lowered his knightmare towards the unfortunate captain, to find answers: Had Cornelia found him out? Had Saxon wanted to eliminate a potential threat? And then there was the quaint little problem of them knowing of the Doctor…

Δ

Captain John Galt groaned as he blurrily regained consciousness after briefly going out from the first collision. _Where am I again? What was I doing?_ Then the memories came back with a surge of rage. A threat that Control didn't know about. Zero where there shouldn't be Zero. Experimental knightmares that were equal to the best Britain had. An alien trickster who he hadn't been able to find. All save one of Wraith Squadron KIA. Beaten fighting Zero. And now most likely going to die by torture, or worse, by radiation poisoning. "This is not my day…" he muttered angrily, punching the opening switch while reaching for his service revolver. As the cockpit opened, he heard the click of a ceramic pistol about 3 meters behind him. "Turn round. Slowly." Commanded the low voice of the one who had beaten him. He held up the left hand, making sure the right was hidden, slowly began shifting… then whirled around to empty his pistol into his opponent's torso. He gasped in horror as the obscured man moved not a tremor, teeth glinting, fingers pointing at his bleeding chest as the wounds began to slowly close, the bullets that hadn't gone through edging their way out; the man then shot the revolver out of Galt's hand, destroying the tendons in his index finger and wrist. "Hmm hmhmhmhmhmm. How stupid of you to try such desperate tactics. If you knew who I really was, you'd be too scared to pull the trigger!" the voice was low, mocking, sadistic in the sheer amount of pleasure it held. Galt stared at the enemy, teeth clenched, flinching in agony as he clutched his mutilated arm._ Those eyes…_ "Then who the hell are you?!" he screamed, anxiety filling him. The figure slowly began to move forward, into the firelight, his voice gloating. "_Not Zero._" He gave an evil chuckle, then moved fully into the light, a toothy grin firmly in place. "I am the Emperor of Hell and Shadows, your master, Lelouch Von Britannia!" Panic. Dread. Mindless, crippling terror. Memories of the infamous Daily Edicts and Suppression-Battalions came flooding back. Galt began shaking, falling back into the cockpit as he stared up at the Prince of Madness, hyperventilating, grabbing his chest as he got closer, those hateful eyes glaring down at him pitilessly. _The evil eye! I can't look away! Anything he says I'll do! Nooo…_ As if the tyrant could hear his agonized thoughts, that smile became downright inhuman as he spoke in ringing tones, "**Lelouch Von Britannia Et Lamperouge commands you: Tell me who your masters are and why you have come here.**"

Anyone watching this little scene would have thought that the Captain had overcome his fear of the Demon and was bravely rising to challenge him. Such was the power of Geass, but at the same time, such was also the power of national pride. "FOR THE BRITISH EMPIRE! GLORY TO THE REPUBLIC AND CHANCELLOR SAXON!!! DEATH TO THE DOCTOR AND ALL XENOS!" the Captain bellowed, apparently no worse for wear. As soon as this tirade was finished however, he stared in horror at the smug Lelouch, and then with a final excruitiating wheeze, turned and pitched forward into the controls, his body, especially his heart, not able to withstand such an outburst. "Hmmm. Maybe I overdid it. I was going to shoot him as a mercy. Good thing the Doctor wasn't watching…" He was about to check for a pulse when the sound of tearing metal and displaced air reached his ears. He spun round to see a Gareth, legs disconnected, jetting away at full speed, blasting two Sutherlands that tried to stop it. "Shall we go after it, sire?" questioned the Strike Squad captain over Lelouch's headset, forming up the unit. Lelouch squinted into the distance, and then smirked. "I don't think so, M-1. He's going nowhere with O-2 coming." There was an amused crackle over the radio. "I see where you're coming from, sire. He's been getting bored lately and we made him miss out on most of the fun...."

Sure enough, the Gareth reached the edge of the cloud bank, the pilot (Bates) most likely thinking that he had made his escape, that all he had to do was keep running. What he failed to realize was that the Demon Emperor ALWAYS had back-up plans _for backup plans_. Suddenly, a gigantic shape, red and yellow running lights outlining it, loomed before him, sledgehammer like arms rising as it bulled forward. The wraith frantically retreated, firing blast after blast into the Zizian monster's hull, its titanic right fist extending and positioning itself directly above him. Like the legendary Mjolnir, the hammer was brought down, and with a crack like thunder, annihilated the Gareth. "**ALL HAIL THE SHADOW EMPEROR! DEATH TO HIS FOES!**" joyously cried the voice of Jeremiah the Orange on the loudspeakers, causing all the Geassed troopers to smile. "Jeremiah, we're getting out of here to a less noticeable position. All troops, it's time to clear out of here! The JAF will be coming to investigate this little incident, and we cannot be here when they arrive. Get the knightmares out of their holds and remove the computer core, then destroy the production facility." Lelouch barked into his headset, watching the Morgana and the newly arrived _Ars Helios_-class transport airships descend; he was about to get back in the St. George, when something stopped him.

Striding through the smoke and fire and slag was the Doctor, his longcoat billowing behind him, face in shadow, hands clenched into fists. Lelouch stared down at him, wondering if maybe he HAD been watching after all. At the foot of his knightmare, about a meter below him, he stopped and glared up at his host, eyes incredibly severe, slightly glowing. When he spoke, it was with a deadly seriousness. "I heard that man say 'Saxon'. Did I hear him wrong?" Lelouch shook his head, curious as to why he seemed to take personal care with that name. His eyes narrowed. "Then you and the rest of the world are in more danger than you could possibly conceive. This man isn't human; in fact, he's of the same race as me; he likes to be known as "The Master", his title from his days on Gallifrey. You can't possibly think of going to war with him. He's been fighting wars of annihilation since before your race existed, and on a galactic scale. He'll destroy you with ease should he have found out about you. Only I can stop whatever he's planning, so you--"

"Quit rambling." Lelouch hissed, his mind racing and almost derailing from the information he had just received. _Saxon's a Time Lord?! What is this? An invasion? No, why would an extremely powerful race like his want to invade this planet? Maybe he's another 'freelancer' like the Doctor. Yes, that's it. Well then, if he thinks he can turn my world into his own little fief, then he's about to get a nasty reality check._

"I don't know how other people, other humans have reacted to you Doctor, how much folly they allowed themselves in letting you assume authority, but I won't have it. You think simply because you are of a different species from humanity, with technology and knowledge to rule the cosmos, that on a personal level you are superior to me? That the pitiful little apes can't handle a war between gods? This Saxon cannot be allowed to continue, and from what I'm seeing and hearing, I can stop him. I've granted you the recognition of not underestimating you, of knowing you're just as intelligent as I. However, this is MY responsibility, this Earth. Have I made myself clear, Time Lord?" The Doctor raised an eyebrow, still glaring at him, then said, "You don't enjoy surprises, do you, Lelouch? Out of curiosity, why do you think you can defeat an insane alien genius? What gives you that confidence? I've seen foolhardy humans who overestimate themselves when faced with alien life, but you're different. So why?"

"I just said why: If you, theoretically equal to me, can say with certainty that you can defeat Saxon, why can't I? At any rate, only one who is slightly unhinged can expect to go up against a madman and win. Now, are you going to badger me further, or are you going to make yourself useful by telling me if your TARDIS can be of help to me?" He stated with a twitch of the lips. The Doctor sighed (muttering something about a Brigadier), closed his eyes, scowled, then opened them again, shaking his head. "Whatever I had just started to plan, something involving me warping in and confronting him, is diffused. Not only is she tired from arriving here, but there's something preventing her from materializing anywhere near the British Isles. It's like she can't find or remember any of the coordinates! Everywhere else is fine, just not there!" He puffed with annoyance, looking rather dejected. "I suppose I'll have to go with your plan, Colonel. Never thought I'd ever again have to fight in a war…" He trailed off, staring off into space, eyes unfathomable. For a moment, the Demon was curious, curious as to what war he'd fought in, then filed that curiosity away for another time. The information he'd received over the past hour was already quite enough for his powerful mind to handle without completely snapping. More could wait, until he had Kallen back, to knock some sense into him if he Did lose it. _That reminds me…_

"Doctor, Is that TARDIS of yours capable of short-range jumps?" He asked, snapping his fingers for emphasis. The Doctor awoke from his reverie and stared at the warlord, whose mental wheels were already working. "Yes… Why?" the Time Lord said cautiously, watching Lelouch's face slowly shift into a smile. A crafty look, this time, but fortunately without malice. "Doctor, I need you to help me regain a certain someone, a someone who might very well win this for us."

"Who?"

Lelouch's smile widened to a grin, eyes glittering. "My Queen." The Shadow Emperor hissed.

**----------FWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!**

**Damn but that was fun to write! Okay everyone, I need that feedback. I don't care how well some of you type English, I need something. Now, for any of you lot hissing at how I portray Lelouch in this, keep two things in mind: A, a good part of the sadism was used to scare the Wraiths into panicking, not thinking straight, in other words on purpose. B, the Doctor's arrival did not help his sanity. Ever since he found out his "condition", he's been walking a line. The good-natured Time Lord gave him a push.**

**For you Whovians snarling about the Doctor fighting, what other choice does he have? Besides, he uses a Doctorish method to dispose of those men. Yes, that's **_**Ode to Joy**_** you saw. And yes, I intended the irony. Now, would you kindly tell me what you think before I have the Shadow Emperor Geass you into doing it?**

**To anyone reading this, go on and look for my side chapter within this crossover, The Ether Between (Digamma). You'll need to read it to understand the following main chapters.**


	5. Chapter 5: Epsilon

To Velshard: You are a prince amongst men, and I sincerely thank you for your help and input in this. Now enjoy.

**Warning: Have you read Digamma? If not, you may be a little confused. Further warning: there will be updates to this chapter. Inform your friends of this.  
**

Geass Aberration **Ε** **(**Epsilon)

**Post-Requiem Turn 5: Trial and Reconciliation **

**Shinjuku District, Enki Lane; 6:35 PM**

**K**allen Kouzuki did not consider herself unstable. In fact, none of the others considered her unstable, considering it remarkable, _especially_ after Zero Requiem, where she'd had that nasty little scuffle with the new Zero. Right about now, the red-eyed being standing before her in the darkened alley was effectively putting that status into question. She outright _shook_, not from fear, but from the knowledge that this was completely, utterly _impossible_. And that of absolute **rage**. "You… whoever the fuck you are, you clearly don't value your life, because for this, for both mocking his memory and thinking I'm that easy to fool, I'm going to END YOU!!!" She extended the blade with a metallic hiss and tried her best to run the man through. WHAM

From the side, one of the agents struck, inhumanly fast, shoulder-charging her into the alley wall. With a snarl she spun around, punching the man dead in the face, causing him to stagger back, but not lose his balance; the other suit lunged forward, dodging her spin-kick and narrowly missing her with an elbow slam that shook the tin roof. Kallen blocked a blow from the side, countered it, then drove her knife in an upward slice towards the other man's face. The cut didn't touch any flesh, but bit into the bridge of the shades, slashing them in half, the lenses falling to the ground with a clatter. His eyes were now completely exposed, and the pilot was shocked at what she saw: they were wide, slightly discolored, a red ring of energy circling his irises. _Geass?! No, that isn't possible! _ A clattering of plastic alerted her to the other agent's smashed shades falling to the ground, discarded, the man's gray eyes similarly lit with that unnatural energy. They both had unhinged smiles on their faces as they brought out electrical stunners from their pockets, crackling menacingly with their activation. "Enough. No harm will be done to her. I believe she's seen enough proof to at least refrain from attacking with the knife. Stand down." Called the voice from the back of the alley. "Yes, my Lord." The thralls chanted as they knelt in the dust, heads bowed. The voice of the impossible one spoke again. "Kallen, please turn around." Slowly, trying to keep her breathing under control, she did, until she was fully facing the man with the glowing sigils. She couldn't fully make out his face in the darkness, but she could hear the 'ahh' of a small satisfied breath. "You are as beautiful as I remember," She could see the glint of his teeth. "And your reflexes are undiluted. Excellent. And now…"

He tried to take a step towards her, only to halt when the knife jerked in his direction.

"H-h-how is this happening? Who is this?! You're not him. YOU'RE NOT HIM!!! " she cried, half in anger, half in desperation, fists clenched, left hand shakily holding the knife-purse. The "imposter" (_NO! IT CAN'T BE HIM! It can't…) _gave an impatient sigh, then spoke quietly (maddeningly, it sounded exactly like Him), walking slowly towards her. "You're not going to make this easy for me, are you, Q1? Why do you deny what you see? Who else could this strange man with Geass-imprinted eyes be?" He got closer, face stern, emotionless, his voice rising in volume. "Who else do you know of who can make all obey his orders to the absolute, even throwing themselves at someone as well-trained as you without a second thought? Who else would meet with you like this?" He was within four feet of her now, hands at his sides. Kallen backed up, blade pointed, eyes wide. "That's far enough! Don't--" He closed the distance, towering over her, voice reverting to a hoarse whisper. "Who else would dare make you feel this much pain by forcing you to see my face, hear my voice? _Who else, Kallen_? I'm here, Q1. Here for you to accuse, berate, or even beat to a pulp if you feel that strongly."

Her eyes began stinging as confused tears started rolling down her cheeks. She couldn't deny it anymore: The Man Who Held the World at Gunpoint was indeed right in front of her. "How? How can you possibly be alive?" she whispered, looking down at his shoes. She could feel those burning sigils boring into her head, considering whether or not he was going to change the subject, or just answer. The silence continued for another 5 seconds, Kallen raising her head to glare into the Demon's eyes. "You faked your death, didn't you, bastard? How'd you pull it off? I saw all that blood; unless that was fake too--" He interrupted with a raised hand. "No. I did not fake my death. Had there been an autopsy, or even a full examination of my body, I would have been pronounced dead. I remained dead for several hours, until I simply revived. It was not my intention to live beyond the grave, to return to the world of the living, however…" His eyes took on a haunted look at that point, his left hand slowly untying the ascot around his throat. She gasped when she saw what it was concealing: a blackened Geass insignia, seared into his flesh as if branded there. "A parting gift from my _father_," He spat. "And now death laughs at me, the grain impossible to scythe. I saw the world beyond, both sides of it, and was judged unworthy of either. So here I am, trapped in the world of the living. Trapped watching my plan slowly fall apart." His left eye twitched, lip curled into a slight grimace. "So what will you do now?" He hissed.

** Ε**

_I reeeeeeally shouldn't have asked that…_ Lelouch thought as he was sent stumbling into the alley wall by the hardest backhand he had ever had the misfortune to encounter. He tried to retain some semblance of dignity as he gazed at his enraged former bodyguard who, face contorted with fury and tearstained, pulled back her arm to belt him another one. _Now, is she going to start yelling at me about my days as the Demon Emperor or about me staying hidden for three years?_ His answer came loud and clear. "THREE YEARS! Three years I mourned you! I was beginning to finally get on with my life; steady job, family, college; and then you show up. Then you tell me you were ALIVE for all three goddamn years, either moping around or screwing around in some hole!" The next slap caused him to reel backwards into the wall, thinking over what to say as she stormed forwards, more bitterly tearful than wrathful. He fixed her with a steely look, and then spoke clearly and coldly, "Would you prefer me dead, Q1? Would you have preferred that I stayed out of your life?" He felt a little bit more confident as she froze, her face stricken. "N-no... No I don't. I just wish you'd let me know earlier t-that you were alive, dammit_… Why didn't you tell me...?" _ By this point, she looked utterly miserable, sinking to her knees. Only after years of acting and wearing masks was Lelouch able to keep the guilt from surfacing on his visage. _My ego is never going to recover from this. _ A nasty little voice in the back of his head begged to differ, advising that a certain move made here, when she was still vulnerable, would _certainly_ make him feel better. Both the Critic and the Observer loudly shouted it down. 'No you fool! She'd never forgive you if you did something like that! Ignore the bastard!' snarled the Critic; 'Keep in mind that you still need her, and for that, you need her to trust you. Forcing yourself on this woman will lose you this trust… And make the cretin back there win.' The Observer snapped; the voice in the darkness cackled, then loudly voiced its opinion that the other two were severely lacking in the department of masculinity, resulting in a full-fledged brawl commencing in Lelouch's mind as the Observer (half-heartedly) tried and failed to stop the Critic from tackling the monster. His eye started twitching. _This has to happen NOW of all times? When I'm trying to seem as calm as I can in front of someone I'm attempting to bring back after a nasty personal betrayal? NO! Shut up all of you! Ye gods I need a psychiatrist…_ He managed to bring his focus back out side of his mind; to his dismay, Kallen was staring at him, bewilderedly. _Did I say that out loud? _

She stood, still staring at him, an eyebrow raised, looking worried. "Lelouch? Just what were you _doing_ over those three years?" Lelouch tried going the hard route with what he was going to say, faltered, and then tried to sound casual. "Watching the world and you, mostly." He mentally winced under the Critic's rebuke, getting hammered over the head with the phrase, **Double Entendre**. Kallen looked scandalized, her face going beet-red, drawing breath for a furious retort. The image he'd been trying to keep for the past few minutes dissolved as he frantically interrupted, "Not that way! NOTHING like that!" _Spectacular, _Drawled the Observer, _Oh, she'll take you seriously now. Fabulous timing, Critic._

"Really?" she huffed, not looking convinced. "I'll commend you for keeping your eyes on my face right now, but what about for three years in some bunker?" Another thought struck her, and she looked even more outraged, Lelouch attempting to quell the Red Lotus again. "No cameras or bugs were placed in your home. The only cameras I had anywhere near you were on the Ashford Campus and Tamaki's bistro." He paused, and then smirked, eyes glimmering mischievously. "Or would you _prefer_ for me to watch you that way? Would you prefer me _not _to notice?" He grinned as she continued to look flustered, opening her mouth for a rather cute retort… then sighed with a laugh, finally looking happy, or at least not angry or bitter towards him. "You really are Lelouch. Not insane, just a smartass and a pervert. And a brilliant man." _I'm not sure about that first one, midear…_ he thought giddily. "Let me do something, please." She said in a quiet tone, eyes shining a little. Lelouch nodded. She reached out a hand and slowly, tentatively, put her palm to his face. The inside of his head went berserk with personas, emotions, and utter confusion as to what to do. "_Smile! Raise an eyebrow! Say something clever! DO SOMETHING!" the Critic roared, the Observer trying desperately to hold the monster back._

In the end, attempting to sound lightly amused while fighting down the blood rushing to his cheeks [{Yes, he's modified himself enough that he can do this]], he spoke. "So, what's this about, Kallen?" She smiled sheepishly. "I-uh, haha, did this to one of those statues of you in Shinjuku. I felt like I had to do this to the genuine article."

In the end Lelouch decided to do nothing, until the Ace decided how long was enough.

Kallen drew in a steadying breath, wiping her eyes, and then stood at attention.

"I guess that this wasn't just a social call, right? You need me. That's why you called on me." She said in a calm business-like tone. Lelouch nodded, but privately he also enjoyed her company, and missed that straightforward loyalty. "That firestorm at Narita was your doing, correct?" she asked with a slight smirk. "Now that I know you're, huh, up and about, that did seem to have your grandstanding style. A giant, radiation tainted cloud over what I'm guessing was your hiding place? Yep, that's you." Lelouch almost felt surprised, then stopped himself and smiled, realizing that Kallen wasn't stupid. Narita had practically been a signal flare. "It was sloppy. I've gotten a bit rusty with my strategies." She looked at him appraisingly.

"Well, if you call that sloppy, then I can't wait to see what you can do with a few more of these. So, what enemy did you want to point me towards? Rogue Britannians? A new order group? What?" She stared at him and his smile. _She's recovered faster than I would have ever imagined! Well, she is older, mellower… even better looking… Where the hell did that one come from?! _ "Oh, nothing. But no; we're going up against a nation, the Republic of Britain. They're the ones responsible for the attack on Narita. And guess what Kallen? _Our enemy isn't human this time. Harold Saxon, non-human._" Her face went slack, disbelieving. "**What?!**" Lelouch allowed himself a grimace; it had been 18 hours since the Doctor had found out about Saxon and then had annoyed him with that attempt at a Wrathful-God-On-High speech right in his face, revealing that the supernatural negotiator was another Time Lord, that he was called "The Master". "I didn't believe it at first either Kallen, but it seems we have uninvited guests from off-world, with powers to make the Geass merely unusual." His face darkened, eyes glinting like bloodied steel. "Yes, Q1; I'm calling you back for the war to shake this planet, the Last War. Saxon cannot be allowed to disrupt my plan any further, and so violence must be used to end violence; truly a war to end them all. I'm sorry, but I do need you for this. After Saxon dies, all will go back to normal, as normal as I can make it. So, Kallen Kouzuki, will you follow me to battle, to victory over the invader? I will only offer this to you once, and should you decline, I shall simply make sure you don't get caught in the crossfire. So, do you wish to join me?" He put his hand out, deadly serious.

She looked at the hand, looked him in the eye, and then dissolved again, looking absolutely exasperated, even infuriated. "Idiot! Complete, utter MORON!" She seized his hand, and then yanked him into a rib-cracking hug, as if afraid to let him go; Lelouch's eyes widened. _Did she really miss me this badly?_ She whispered into his ear, "I take back the sanity bit; you're completely MAD if you even began to think that I would give up this chance. I'd follow you to hell and back if I could. Yes, I'll be your ace again, but with two conditions." She looked him dead in the eye. "First, don't EVER die in front of me again. That… was painful. Just watching you bleed to death on the parade ground…" She took in a deep breath before continuing. "I don't care how many things you did, I was your bodyguard, dammit, and you don't kill yourself in front of one! The second condition: Do _not_ leave me out of the loop, ever. I don't need to explain that one, do I?" She ground out in a tone to rival a Britannian schoolmaster. Pushing her back to arms' length, sardonic smirk in place, the Demon stated playfully, "Conditions accepted. This is the one time I take orders from you, though, so don't let it go to your head!" he started walking to the back of the alley, before turning around, a crazy, if genuine smile on his face as he spread his arms, beckoning to her, the two Geassed agents rising, dusting themselves off, to join him. "Welcome back to my world, my Queen." She started walking his way, cautiously at first, then at a confident, dignified trot that made the Prince have to fight down hysterical laughter. "And now… Here … We…" Her hand was an inch from his…

"GOOOOOO!!!!"

_**VWOOOOORRRP—VWAOORRRP-- VORREAAHHH**_

Suddenly, the world around them started to fade in out, transposed with a strange, green twilit chamber, an unearthly sound, like steam engines from another world; Kallen shrieked, leaping at her old boss.

"_KYAAAAAAAHH!! What the hell is this, Lelouch?! Wha--"_ Then she realized the position she was in clutching her very amused and very mad warlord in alarm, said warlord's arms and cape also around her, and tried to wriggle free. Her master whispered, in a slightly kinder tone. "Stop moving until there's fully a room to move in. It's all part of the plan. We're quite safe." So she remained, simply allowing herself to study the Demon's face. He had indeed not aged a day; however, his face had changed slightly, with slight frown lines around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth, and an odd feeling of timelessness to the texturing of his skin and how it reflected light (as such, all of that slight tan that had come from living in the tropics for most of a decade had been worn off by the best part of three years spent indoors, the result being a ghostly paleness). Were it not for the eyes, anyone would have still called him beautiful. As such, his eyes were the thing that made his face monstrous: that crystalline amethyst obliterated and altered to the point where it could be called bloodstained maroon by the malevolently glowing eagle-**V** sigils, disfiguring signs of a power that no man should wield. She recoiled slightly in revulsion when she saw that veins of his eyes (brought out by many nights spent watching the information currents instead of sleeping) were now flowing with that hellish energy._ Don't tell me it's going directly into his brain! Stupid bastard, what did you do to yourself…?_ The demon seemed to notice, at which point his face reverted to a frosty smirk with slight pain at the edges before whispering, "They're not going away, Q1. Contacts barely work anymore. I either have to mask them, close them, or keep them open. I can't do anything else." _** THOOM**_

The chamber had finished materializing, so that there was now a strange yet peaceful domain around them, lit by dim orange squares on the honey-combed walls, multicolored corals, and a great central column filled with a glowing, bright green miasma, surrounded by myriad controls, be-glyphed screens, and numerous buttons. There seemed to be 6 sides to the console, five of which were occupied by black uniformed officers… And the sixth by a rather serious looking man in a blue jacket and brown longcoat, eyeing the warlord with his piercing gaze. Lelouch released his hold on his subordinate, then looked to the Time Lord. "Well?" he asked expectantly. The man suddenly smiled, his eyes going from hard as diamonds to twinkling in an instant. "Not one molecule displaced!" he raised an eyebrow, looking at the Blackshirts at the other sides of the console. "And this lot are doing very well helping me pull off stunts like these, especially considering they're thralls." Lelouch rolled his eyes before speaking, "They're military, Doctor. They'll remember every little instruction you or I give them. My control actually makes them even more focused. Now then, we need to head back to the farm for two hours, and then--" A pair of strong, feminine hands clamped down on his collarbone, wrenching him around to face his almost hysterical bodyguard, who proceeded to grab him by the lapels and shake him like a dog does a squirrel, jabbing her fingers at the Time Lord, the console, and everything in that order. "Who?! What?! WHY?!" she cried in complete exasperation. Lelouch looked over his shoulder at the Chronarch, who scratched at his bestubbled chin, then put on a pair of black rimmed glasses. In a complete deadpan, they answered. "Face." Lelouch said, pointing to his own. "Doctor." He said, adjusting the specs. And creepiest of all was the half-ancient, half-young female voice in her head that spoke, "_TARDIS, M'dear."_ Were this in some theatre, it would have been hilarious. As such, Kallen Kouzuki felt very uneasy, and not amused in the least. Lelouch's gaze went heavenward, then he spoke. "Did you have to join in, _timeship?_ I was trying to cheer her up, not scare her." Whatever answer he received apparently failed to satisfy him, as he gazed balefully at both Doctor and console, the former giving a shrug, the latter remaining silent. "Longer answer, please?" Kallen asked weakly, trying to keep her voice steady. _C'mon you idiot! You're stronger than this! HE'S here! Do ya wanna show yourself as a weakling who can't take a few shocks in front of him? Get a hold of yourself! Kallen banzai!_

The warlord smiled apologetically, the warmth actually reaching his eyes this time. "I suppose it's only fair that you receive some explanations. To start with, saying that my face would cause a riot is no longer a semi-literal figure of speech; it's quite true now, and as a result, I can only show my face with controlled conditions like that alley or this place." He chuckled humorlessly. "That's what being a former revolutionary will do for your social life. Believe it or not, I do not enjoy waiting until the sun sets, and then wandering around Shinjuku. Thus, this." He spread his arms expansively to encompass the massive control room. He then gestured at the leaning bespectacled person that he'd addressed as Doctor. "This is the latest addition to our forces, the Doctor, a scientist and engineer who outstrips even Rakshata Chawla, and who happens to be my expert in terms of dealing with unnatural elements… Seeing as you're unnatural yourself, right, Doctor?" The Time Lord straightened, taking his specs off with a small smile, offering his hand. "Doctor John Smith, Time Lord and traveler, call sign Bishop, but you lot can call me the Doctor. Pleased to meet your acquaintance, Ms. Kouzuki. Your old boss has told me a good bit about you, all positive. He tells me that you are one of the few people he can always rely on to get the job done. Among other things," he said, correctly interpreting Lelouch's glance as a sign to stop before he could let loose anything else and ending it there. Kallen was slightly disappointed and the tiniest bit envious; she'd been faintly curious as to what Lelouch had told the stranger, and why he had chosen to confide in him. Lelouch trusted almost no one. Why should a complete stranger receive this much trust? With a mental rolling of the eyes, she realized how familiar this was. _Great. A male C.C.. As if the real one wasn't bad enough… _Just as she shook the odd man's hand, a familiar voice echoed through the cavernous chamber. "So you got the temperamental one back, V? Huh. I do hope she hasn't lost what little subtlety she has left from spending so much time in the service of that excitable Professor." The pilot ground her teeth a little before turning around to take in the green-haired, smirking Grey Witch of the Shadow. So the Witch had been with him the whole time. _I wonder if… OH HELL NO!!_

At that, the immortal let out a giggle, an amused, if slightly frustrated glimmer in her golden eyes. "Transparent as glass, as always, Lotus. And no, I didn't get **ANY** of that, if that makes you feel any better. Stupid frikkin' virgin…" She groused, that smirk beginning to look like a wolverine with a tooth-ache. "That's stupid, hardworking virgin to you." Lelouch muttered with a smirk on his own face, peering at the glyphs on the primary screens. The ace started shaking with barely suppressed laughter and glee, C.C. looking sour, the Doctor rolling his eyes, then letting out a pronounced cough. "Ahem. Next stop, Jem's Orange Farm?"

Lelouch looked over his shoulder as he drew back towards his companions, two of the agents flanking him. "Yes--- Take your time though. I wish to speak to my subordinates, in private." The warlord ordered sternly. The Doctor nodded mutely, setting to work, thoughts swirling through his head. With any other human, he [or any fan] would have guessed that something frisky would ensue in one of the back chambers of his TARDIS, something the old girl would complain to him about later. But then again, none of the people in this room were normal in the slightest, Lelouch least of all, with the self-control to rival a weeping angel.

He was surprised at the woman named Kallen however. When he'd heard Lelouch speak of her, his eyes went a little misty toward the end. Besides speaking of her as his most loyal and pragmatic enforcer, he'd also described her as pure (well, at least compared to him), the one least tainted by his power. Just listening to this guy talk about his subordinate that way, and realizing with embarrassment that some emotion had gotten through to the surface… He smiled to himself as he keyed in some of the coordinates. _Hardly professional, but since when have I ever cared about professionalism? If someone like Lelouch can feel affection, actually be human… Perhaps he really isn't as evil as my estimates at Narita indicated. _ For indeed, he had heard how the warlord manipulated the spec ops team's leader, how cruelly he had played with the officer's sense of responsibility for his men. And from what he had guessed from that yell, the man had died from his wounds after being forced to answer the warlord's questions. It was probably more of a mercy that he had died then, rather than receive the horrific burns the radiation would give him, but killing someone that way was still horrible nonetheless. From the actual battle, the Doctor had heard every utterance, every cackle, every taunt, and had briefly been afraid that he had landed on the wrong side. He'd been afraid that the Prince would be equally nasty in regards to returning this bodyguard of his, but seeing the woman immediately seek him for safety…

Getting humbled by the genius was also an immense surprise for him. No human, not since Harriet Jones had told him he was wrong, had stood up to him, and certainly, _no being in the universe_ had ever forced him to back down, completely unfazed by his attitude and assumptions of authority. Typically, the Doctor's face when he went serious was enough to cow most humans into listening to him, but it hadn't worked here. _There's another tally for humans, or least for one human: indomitable in will as well as existence. Lelouch V. Britannia, you're an interesting soul… And I'll have to keep an eye on you… You can act all you want, be the most frightening and demoralizing enemy ever, and I'll permit it. You stand on the line of morality, just as I do, teetering slightly from side to side; beware going over the edge however. For if you slip, I will catch you, but I will catch you with a rod of iron…_

The man and his entourage reentered the control room, silently, expressionless. The Doctor turned to look each in the eyes. Lelouch and C.C. were completely unreadable, managing stoicism of both mind and expression with ease. Kallen managed to keep her mind mostly clear, but for an instant, her eyes narrowed in hostility and warning. For that instant, the Doctor could detect a thought fragment from her mind, deliberately put there perhaps: _I know what you are, and what you can do. I'm watching you, xeno, so don't think you can take him away if you try. I won't let you._ The Time Lord's scowl deepened, but at the same time, a cool satisfaction went through him. _Ah, a game of watchers. Oh, you are clever, Lelouch. This is going to be an interesting little game, my king…_

_**THOOM**_

** Ε**

_**Jem's Orange Farm, 75 miles from Tokyo**_

There was a very good reason why the farm had been closed for the past day. At the moment, forces were gathering there, a private army of an empire hidden from the world. Red-eyed soldiers patrolled the groves and routes around the buildings. Helicopters and gunships landed on retracting heli-pads, disgorging their order-bound cargo. Camo-plated Sutherlands and Akatsukis raced back forth around the perimeters, factspheres and rifles gleaming in the twilight. Two platoons of the soldiers, now dressed in the black and red dress uniforms of the army, formed up in front of the newly materialized timeship, rifles shouldered, staff sergeants silent. The doors opened and the Emperor in the Shadows stepped out, followed closely by C.C. and Kallen and then by the Doctor, hands in his pockets, looking bored. As one, the thralls crisply went into a salute with a resounding crunch of jackboots on gravel. The warlord returned the gesture, raising his palm over his right shoulder, his face quite expressionless. The Doctor scowled behind all of them, while Kallen glanced around, somewhat impressed, if taken aback, by the display. She looked behind her to see where they had come from, and then gasped at the sight of the tall blue box; She shook her head and then continued walking, resolving to ask Lelouch about it later.

In the middle of the path, between the columns of men stood a figure in a gray-with-white-trim greatcoat, silhouetted against the setting sun, one side of his face shining like bronze, the white eyecover in place. The man was smiling, with an extra touch of happiness this time as he went into a low bow before his master, speaking in that distinctive bass tone that he was known for, "I take it your excursion was a success, your Majesty? Is Miss Kouzuki fully with us now?" The former hegemon gave a small smirk, with a glance behind him. "As you can see, Orange, she is." He drew to the side, activating his helmet seal so that with a series of clicks, his mask was back on; most importantly though, the VOC system was now online, the man using it so that his voice boomed across the farm, "**Men and women of the Empire in the Shadows, today something magnificent has happened!"** Across the area, every soldier, every Knightmare stopped what they were doing and turned to listen to their leader. "**Today, we have regained our finest soldier, the Ace of Japan, the Crimson Lotus. Once more, the Queen is within our fold, and for that, we shall be UNSTOPPABLE! Now, hasten to your tasks. Within a week, we shall show this world our might, and with my persuasion, the recalcitrant Black Knights will have swollen our ranks. Then we shall show that fool in Whitehall the true meaning of fear! Now, fall-out!"**

As one, the army cheered, smiling away, walking back to their tasks with a spring in their steps. As the columns of troops filed off, sketching salutes to her as they passed, Kallen very quietly asked the mask, "What was all that for?"

She could swear that he was grinning under that visor of his as he answered, "That, Q1, was a morale boost," he turned on his heel. "as well as a statement of what I intend to do. Now, we shall rest here an hour, then we shall begin the next phase of the 'buckling down' part of the operation. Doctor, you can stop glaring at me now." Everyone turned to look at the Time Lord, then withdrawing a step; he was indeed glaring at the warlord, and he ground out a single word, "Fascism?"

The Demon's response was to lean forward, the helmet disengaging to reveal an insufferably smug look on his face, his eyes half-closed with gleeful satisfaction. "…Works. And if it works, how is it objectionable? I see little point in complaining. Thralls or not, they enjoy it. And I? Oh _yes_, I enjoy it too. The fact of the matter is, Doctor, it has a purpose. It enables me to direct them with some spirit, which, combined with their focused status makes them even more competitive, and therefore drives them to greater deeds, a steadily sharpening blade. Now come on, it's time we had something to eat before going back to work. Ah, to taste Sayoko's cooking again…" And so he began walking off towards the main building, humming a bombastic little tune as his fellows stared after him mutely.

The Doctor was the first to speak. "Was he always this… bouncy back in the old days?" All shook their heads vigorously, but Jeremiah had a slightly incredulous smile on his face. "I think he's actually happy. He has his Q1 back, he's going to take control of situation, and he's going off to war again. If that's not cause for a little enthusiasm on his part…" the slightly unhinged cyborg chuckled to himself, then followed. The Doctor shrugged, then smiled a little, seemingly satisfied with the answer (subconsciously though, he resolved to look over Jeremiah's construction). C.C.'s gaze flickered between Lelouch and Kallen, and then with a sigh she reminded herself of what she'd promised him back at Narita, as well as other details. _Whatever makes him happy shall make me happy. As such, antagonizing her would antagonize or at the least annoy him, and not in a way I'd think funny. Aaaahh, maybe I should give the poor kid a break. Hehehheheheh. Maybe…_ the witch snickered.

Kallen stood there for a few seconds, thinking over those words. "'his Q1'? I'm not sure whether to be annoyed or flattered…" she muttered to herself. _If I take those words as meaning something, then…_ she closed her eyes and shook her head, feeling like a schoolgirl. Nevertheless, she smiled and actually giggled at the prospect of being able to serve with him again, and had to fight down the urge to skip after Lelouch. _I would say this is too good to be true, but… This is too good NOT to be true! To hell with tempting fate: SCREW YOU! Lelouch is back, and that's broken fate's power over him. And so, I will keep it from reasserting itself… _ She grinned and outright sprinted after him, passing both C.C. and the Doctor, the former's eyes narrowing and then giving chase; the latter watched bewilderedly as the two women darted past him, then rubbed his hands together with glee, hopping from one foot to the next, then ran at top speed towards the main building.

And even as they laughed over the little race, none of them noticed the brief flicker of scarlet in her right eye…

{{Interpret which 'her' as you wish...]]

**Ε**

**The Ohgi Residence, Hayate Street, 8:35 PM**

All in all, Villetta Nu Ohgi thought that she'd adjusted fairly well to civilian life. Though some of the old habits and routines from her years in the military continued to pop up, for the most part she had relaxed into the role of house-wife to an MP and mother. There had been a few obstacles to a completely normal settling down, however, one of which she knew she should have expected: contempt for Britannians. For the first year, the household was snubbed by all the neighbors (Save for the Kouzukis, of course; the Britannian Georges family, for some reason, welcomed her with open arms), a stony silence with hostile glances, but not advancing any further than that thanks to her husband and his position. It didn't help that she spoke Japanese with a distinct Britannian accent, which, thanks to it being learned out of necessity by the colonials, had a slight condescending tinge to it. This was also why most of her conversations with Kaname were limited to English, where she could have full control of the tone (she taught her son English, he taught him Japanese). Some of the hostility dissipated after an incident involving two armed burglars breaking into their house… And then winding up on the front lawn the next morning, tied-up, severely pistol-whipped, and concussed, an excerpt regarding grizzly bears from an encyclopedia lying in-between them: "_The female of the species is particularly dangerous when between an intruder and her cubs, and will become extremely violent if they are threatened…_" Thus, the support of all the mothers in the community was gained.

_Ding-dong!_

"Now who could that be at this hour?" Villetta muttered, putting on her maroon slippers to match the bathrobe. She had just put little Kenneth to bed and was waiting for Kaname to return home (which usually happened around 9:20) when the doorbell had rung. As a usual precaution, she slid her service pistol into one of the pockets before she opened the door. To her surprise, Kallen Kouzuki was standing there, looking uneasy. "Kallen? What are you doing here? Is there something wrong?"

Kallen winced slightly before speaking. "You could say that. Look, Villetta, I think I should warn you before someone else has to tell you, but you have… jury duty to perform over the next few days."

The ex-soldier raised an eyebrow, beginning to find this fishy. "What do you mean by jury duty? Kallen, what's wrong?"

Kallen sighed before continuing, gaze serious if slightly regretful. "You're needed to help the plan of a certain monarch---" "There you go! It's called getting to the point! Coming down!" crowed a very familiar voice. Sudden fear seized her as she realized who that voice belonged to, and she reached for her gun. Too late. With a whoosh of greatcoat fabric against roof tile, Jeremiah Gottwald descended onto the porch, a mad smile on his face, right wristblade extending with the singing of metal. Villetta quickly tried to bring the gun to bear on the cyborg's face, but he was quicker. The weapon was uppercut out of her grasp, impaled on the blade. With a quirk of his eyebrow, the blade started vibrating, sawing the gun in half with a small shower of sparks. "I'm _really _sorry about this, Villetta. I didn't want him to come down, but apparently he's forgotten that giving someone a heart attack is bad thing." Kallen said, glaring at the cyborg, who simply shrugged, still smirking. "The sun is down, I'm bored, and I felt like saying hello to an old comrade-in-arms. What's wrong with that?"

Villetta's mind was currently host to two primary emotions: anger and fear. She did have just enough control to keep her voice down though. "Kallen, what the HELL is this?! Did he put you up to this? What are you THINKING?!" She hissed furiously, having to resort to words thanks to being rendered impotent by the implacable man on her porch. Before she could say more, however, a voice spoke in the dark. Low, biting, and youthful, but with a presence that went beyond age. "Enough. As Kallen said, you're needed. Needed for the inevitable trial that will be arranged for me. Now calm down, and whatever you do, _don't scream._" Slowly, deliberately, the figure walked out of the darkness, into the porch light. What he had requested was VERY hard for Villetta not to do, as sweat poured down the back of her neck. She was almost hyperventilating from fear, not of the man himself, but what he would do since he undoubtedly knew that she had been key to his downfall. His blazing eyes were half-lidded from malevolent amusement, as they had been when he had blackmailed her the first time, the same smirk present also. "Well this feels familiar, Villetta Nu. Hmmhmhmhmhm… Are you willing to cooperate?"

"Cooperate with what?!" she shouted, finally losing what remained of her composure. "Do I need repeat the information a third time? You're needed for a trial. I need your help in organizing it. Oh, and I see your little Kenny is out of bed…"

With a thrill of terror, Villetta whirled around to see her son sleepily standing at the entrance to hallway, a teddy bear in the crook of his arm. He looked up at the overlord with those wide yellow eyes, not with fear, but with curiosity. "Mommy, who is this man? Why does he have red eyes? Why's he dressed funny?" His eyes widened in recognition on seeing Kallen and Jeremiah. "Auntie K? Uncle Jem? You're here too?"

Villetta slowly looked back at Lelouch, whose eyes now held a quality she'd never seen before; as such, she didn't like it, grabbing him by the shoulder to stop whatever he was about to do. "Don't _even_ think about it." She hissed. If it was Lelouch, whatever he said would be obeyed by her child, perhaps even one of those lethal sleeper cell trigger commands he relished using. Her paranoia was at a high, and everything would be at risk. His response was to brush her off, with a roll of his eyes while pulling a pair of thick shades from his breast pocket. "Oh please. I'm not in the habit of corrupting young children; one of the few things I outright refuse to do, in fact. It's adults I do that to." He put them on, then went down on one knee in front of the toddler, voice soft and lightly amused. "Hello Kenneth. Sorry to have woken you up with all that commotion, but I did give your mother a start. I'm here to ask her for a little favor, that's all. You see, I used to be your father's boss and your mother's, somewhat. We had quite a few… adventures." The boy cocked his head to one side in slight puzzlement.

"Why don't they say anything about you? Are you the guy they work for?"

The hegemon's face twitched, then he smiled, but with a hard edge. "They don't work for me right now, but they will soon enough. Your father and I had a disagreement of sorts, and he quit my service. I gave him quite a reward for serving so long though. Gave it to everyone in fact. I just have to make sure they use it right. Now, go to bed. Stop worrying your mother. Dream in peace." He patted the little fellow on the head, and then with a light push, directed him back to the hallway, his thoughts no doubt filled with many more questions. Orange gave a small, quiet chuckle, while Kallen looked thoughtful. Lelouch stood, expression equally pensive. "Hmm. Precocious little tyke." He turned to Villetta. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it? I even kept my shades on that whole time. So, willing to listen very closely to me, O Bear of Hayate Street?" He asked, grinning at the defeated woman before him.

**Ε**

They walked down the lane, flanked by a cadre of thralls. Lelouch had his mask on, and Jeremiah was sticking to the shadows. Kallen seemed deep in thought. Streetlamps lit their faces in a sepia glow. "Well, I believe it's time for me to escort you home, Q1. I think your mother would be slightly concerned if you didn't return home tonight. Do you approve?" The mask said, moving towards her. Kallen looked at him with some surprise. "I can't stay with you at the farm? I could just call her and tell her I'm having a study binge over at Ashford…" She said hopefully. Lelouch waved a hand. "No. I want you to actually get some sleep. Trust me, you'll need it. You also need to tell your mother that in a week, things are going to change, that you will be gone from Japan for a long time, possibly six months, possibly a year. You don't want to worry her. Besides, I _want_ to do something nice for you after a whole day's worth of Lloyd, adrenaline, and blackmail. I can fully talk to you over the next few days, and with this. And I need rest, too. This brain can only function for so long without REM sleep. I am human after all, much as some would like refute that." He smirked. "See the method to my madness now?"

Kallen nodded, still looking slightly let-down. The mask turned to Jeremiah and the soldiers. "All of you, head to the rendezvous point. I will be escorting Miss Kouzuki alone. No objections, I'm quite safe."

"Very well, my lord." Jeremiah whispered with a bow, and they melted into the shadows.

The overlord clapped his hands together. "This shouldn't take very long, but there's still time to talk. Lead on. I might even memorize the route this way."

They started walking through the quiet suburbs, wandering through the light of the streetlamps without any worry. The whole trip only took eight minutes, and most it was done in silence. Within view of the house though, she turned around, staring at him intently. _Ah, here it comes._ "I have one question for right now, and you're going to answer it here and now. You're also going to deactivate that mask. Why didn't you let me know that you were alive and well within at least the first year of that day? Lying to me is pointless now. Speak." Lelouch stared back, eyes now hollow. He swallowed before answering in a hoarse whisper. "I was afraid, no, certain you'd loathe me after the absolute hell I put you through. Two, three, years of war. Months of emotional manipulation; three of those were deliberate betrayal. And then there was the Zero Requiem. How could you not have hated me? I've done so much to make you do so. If I had come back, I don't know what would've happened. I thought it was far too raw to come back so soon after the event, that it would only have the effect of destroying your life. I granted, theoretically, what you would've needed post-Requiem: your mother, saved from refrain by my scientists and their cure; a place at Ashford as promised; the need to no longer march to war; I even made sure that Gino survived to replace me. And yet I still thought that you'd see me through red. I wanted you to forget the monster, not miss him. And believe me, I know what I am." He sighed, and then continued. "In short, I didn't think you deserved another look into my somewhat less than happy world. I wanted to keep you away from that. But, I suppose I can't stop you if you always wanted to follow me, if you are much happier in my service. Such would be a waste of effort and resources, and likely personnel too. I see now that I was completely wrong. And that the damn Witch was right." With a grimace of realization, he hit his head on the lamppost with a thud. Kallen snickered, both at this incredibly unLelouch action and at the admission, then thought over what that meant. The implications both disturbed and amused her: C.C. had tried to tell him the obvious, that some simply wouldn't ever be truly happy with him gone. _Nunnally, C.C., me…Huh. Funny how the Witch sees the blindingly obvious instead of fancy prophecies and the like._

"I'll have to thank her for trying to talk some sense into you." She chided, watching him twitch, then point at her, grumbling in a muffled voice. "No. You _cannot_ tell her anything to the degree of me being wrong and her being right. I'd never hear the end of it. I will _not_ be subject to an 'I told you so'. Wait…" he grabbed the post, still leaning against it, but now peering beyond it. His teeth glimmered in a snarl at what he was seeing. Kallen looked where his gaze was directed and inhaled sharply with a hiss: standing framed in the light of one of the streetlamps, motionless, face shadowed, longcoat spread behind him, was the Doctor. "So what should we do, 'boss'?" she asked with a grim smile, crouching down beside him. He shrugged, with a slight smirk. "Part company amiably, I suppose. I didn't anticipate a chaperone… Oh well. Just pretend he doesn't exist." He put a hand on her shoulder, smiling warmly. "Good night Q1. I will send someone to alert you of whatever I have planned tomorrow morning. Trust me, you'll remember her. I'll ask that you come to the base tomorrow afternoon. I'll need to show you some of the things I've acquired over the years. So, I'll see you then." He began to turn towards the watching Time Lord, but Kallen stopped him and turned him back around, smirking a little. "One last thing before you go. Hold still…" and with that she gave him a peck on the cheek. His eyes went wide, hand going to the spot. "Wh-what was that for?!" he spluttered. Her expression went serious, eyes mildly reproachful. "The last one I gave you marked off the Royal Civil War, and besides, that was cold as hell Lelouch." She nodded as he grimaced from the memory. "Don't worry about it. There'll be more. Anyway, I'll see you later." She started walking off to her house, a spring in her step, completely at odds with the serious tone of her words.

He stared after her for a moment, unconsciously tracing her figure, then shook his head and headed off towards the Doctor. When he got close enough, he could see the Time Lord grinning like a Cheshire cat at him, something he wasn't quite expecting. "Giving your 'bodyguard' a good night, Colonel? Such a gentleman. Sure I can't substitute another word for that?" Lelouch gave him a withering glare. "Say 'girlfriend' and I'll give you sparring time with Jeremiah. I entertain whatever relationships I like. Now let's get out of here…"

From the second-story window of the Kouzuki residence, a shade was pulled across the pane. Ms. Kouzuki had indeed seen the entire exchange, had seen the Unsung King, had even seen the small kiss her daughter had given him, and hadn't minded in the slightest. She smiled faintly. _You've chosen well, Kallen…_

**Ε**

Tokyo University, Assembly Hall, 10:25 PM

In the old days of the Black Rebellion, when Lord Zero made an order, every Knight jumped to carry it out. He had their hearts, he had their minds, and he had their wills in his hands. Now, only the Neophytes jumped at the call of the substitute. The senior Black Knights obeyed him for the sake of the plan, but they did so almost sluggishly. The new ones only knew of the symbol of Zero, not the two separate men who had worn it. Most of the seniors now knew that it was Suzaku Kururugi behind the mask, and as far as they were concerned, he did not fit it nearly as well as the previous occupant. While he was a clever man, Kururugi was in no way a genius beyond his superhuman physical prowess and piloting skills. Dramatic as he could be, the man simply didn't have the inspirational aura and presence of his predecessor.

But for his sake, they did obey him, even if their lack of true respect was known. They had puzzled out the plan of their old boss fairly well, and thus, for the most part, remembered him with respect. There was still lingering anger and confusion as to some of his actions, but in comparison to what good he had done, this was tempered. As such, when Villetta Nu sent out mass emails to the seniors indicating that a meeting discussing the late 99th and his legacy was to happen, along with discussion over the current state of his plans, they had all agreed to come. They weren't looking forward to hearing "Zero" talk for a long period of time, but come they did. Apparently, getting reservations for a late-night meeting in Tokyo U's hall was an easy business. Villetta was the first to be there, to the surprise of many; they'd expected to see a cloaked and masked figure mutely scrutinizing them as they entered. She was dressed rather conservatively this time, in black and gray, and seemed more subdued than was normal, even withdrawn. The second to arrive was Kallen Kouzuki, another surprise (on the other end of the scale), as along with the odd, all covering black greatcoat, she was smiling brightly, as if nothing in the world was troubling her. She hadn't smiled like that in years.

Generally, most of the audience figured that there was something fishy about the proceedings. For one thing, all of the lights were out over the campus, not one dorm or late-night study hall lit. There were rumors flying about talking of silent figures in black with red and gold markings wandering the campus, vanishing shortly after being seen. There was also word of a familiar figure in white with an unusual hair color. But that would be preposterous. Everyone there knew that the Grey Witch had wandered off to nowhere, and that Tokyo U, while replete with pizza, would be the last place one would expect to find her. Most mysterious of all, though, was the cloaked figure Tamaki saw standing on top of the main campus building. Black and red again, plus a strange, angular helmet

Quite a few members of the Japanese government and armed forces were there, as those here had all been part of the Black Knights during the Rebellions. Kyoshiro Tohdoh and Nagisa Chiba were both there, dressed in their old JLF uniforms, grim but respectful. Tamaki, while only a bistro owner nowadays, was present, dressed in his Black Knight dress uniform, perfectly sober for once. Kaname Ohgi was, of course, there, dressed in his old coat, and greatly concerned for his wife and her recent behavior. Earlier, at noon in fact, an uplink transfer device had arrived in his mail, from China of all places, with instructions to insert it into a vid link capable laptop when the meeting was close to starting. As it turned out, it was from Xingke, who was curious about the proceedings for much the same reasons as everyone else, but had no other method of attending. As such, he was talking with the most surprising guest of them all, President Kaguya Sumeragi (accompanied by her aide Minami), who looked far too weary and grim for her current age. Though she had become even prettier with that age, most of the sunny disposition she was known for was gone, shattered by that sneering betrayal three years ago and then ground up by the death of the betrayer, the Demon Emperor. A smile from her nowadays was sadly a rare thing, and her duties as President of the United Federation of Nations had drained whatever enthusiasm she had left. She was still remarkably capable though, the criticisms that she was far too young to preside over a gigantic alliance of nations falling flat. Of course, she _had_ gotten taller (if not by that much) and her voice was now somewhat less than piping, so she was a bit easier to take seriously.

Within the assembly, she seemed to have taken control, hunting around for Zero or the familiar wheelchair of his charge. No luck. If Zero was supposed to preside over this meeting, then something was wrong. He was never late for any appointment. So she rounded on whoever was closest to being responsible for this meeting. "OHGI'S!! Over here, now!" she hollered at them, eliciting a nervous twitch from Villetta before they walked over. Kaguya frowned at them. "Alright, do either of you have an itinerary for this? Zero isn't here." She stared at them for a moment, and then sighed, putting her hands on the woman's shoulders, speaking in a less commanding tone. "And Villetta? When did you become a mouse? It's not like you to be this way. What happened?" The ex-soldier swallowed, looking as if she desperately wanted to say why, but was frightened of doing so. "Madame President…" the other interrupted. "Just call me Kaguya. I believe that tonight we can forego some formalities."

Villetta took a steadying breath before continuing. "Kaguya, you'll understand _perfectly _why when those doors open." She pointed at the assembly hall doors, trembling slightly. "Until then, I can't tell you anything; just, when the lights dim, brace yourselves." She turned to her husband. "In advance, Kaname…"

She hugged him, laying her head on his shoulder, his eyes wide in surprise. She whispered into his ear. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I dragged you into this mess." He put an arm around the small of her back, looking at her with deep concern; at the same time all the warning bells in his head were going off. Conditions had gone from merely fishy to "Hostile Action Predicted, something is rotten in the United State of Japan". "Villetta, _why_ can't you tell me about this? What's happening here? And what happened to your gun? You always bring it with you."

*_**Vhhhhzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz***_

The lights dimmed, and suddenly those in the crowd who were armed (which was most of them) heard the whooshing sound of a cable and a soft thud behind them. Ohgi then heard a soft, feminine, and very familiar voice speak from behind him, Villetta staring with a furious expression over his shoulder. "Father broke it, I'm afraid; sorry, couldn't take risks. I will take that nice pistol of yours though. Nice work, Bear of Hayate Street." He whirled around to see the smirking face of Anya Alstreim, dressed in a tight black bodysuit with a close-fitting dark red coat, twirling his pistol around her index finger.

Similar encounters happened all over the hall; black uniformed figures who rappelled down to make certain no firearms were present save for their own. Jeremiah Gottwald simply leapt down in-between Tohdoh and Chiba, snatching their sidearms, then just avoiding decapitation by leaping out of the way of their unsheathed katanas. "Well done Anya! Now let's get ready for the master!" He laughed as he back flipped over Xingke's laptop, whose owner was currently wondering why all hell broke loose. "Alright Dad!" The enforceress turned back to the frazzled quartet, eyes half-lidded. "Enjoy the show. God knows you've earned it." She hissed. All of the troopers and agents raced down the steps, flipping over the guardrails and onto the assembly floor, to stand at the folding chairs near the center.

Kallen Kouzuki, unnoticed in all the kerfuffle, sedately walked down the stairs, onto the lacquered wood floor, coat swishing back and forth, to the center of the hall, unflinching as a fresh squad of troopers rappelled down to her sides. She had a confident smirk on her face, again, something they hadn't seen in years. And to them, it did not bode well. She pushed her hair back to reveal a Bluetooth-esque headset, deploying its built-in mini-microphone to tap into the sound system. "Men and women of the Black Knights, of the government of the United States of Japan, of the United Federation of Nations, and of China," she announced, bowing to each of the representatives in turn. "Tonight, something will happen that will change your lives, and with your choosing, it may change them as much as the events of three years ago did. This may bring as much change as that of the original Zero and his grand campaign. For you see, I am going to bring before you the real, the only true Zero, your leader which you followed and betrayed of your own free will. That is why you have been brought here. We do not want any sort of bloodshed here, so we disarmed you to make sure.

In a sense, the advertized purpose of this meeting is still true: You are indeed here to remember Emperor Lelouch von Britannia, remembering his purpose, and remembering his plan. This plan which you've allowed disruption in. He will be here to jog your memory, in person." The crowd shouted incredulously at her, many questioning her sanity. "What the hell do you mean by 'in person'?! Are you nuts?!! Give up on him already!"

She went dead serious, looking at all of them almost pityingly. "I am completely sane. It is real, and the impossible has happened. You are here to pass judgment on a Demon and a Savior. He is indulging you for your sake. Don't take it for granted. Now please attend carefully." She pointed at the doors, and they flew open. Flanked by a fire team of soldiers was the white figure of C.C., unchanged and inscrutable in expression, as always. She gave a short little wave at the audience, then sat down. Whispers buzzed throughout the room, on confirming of rumors, on if the Witch was the source of all this madness, and on what all of this really meant. The whispers died to nothing at the sight of the next figure to enter.

Dressed in blacks and scarlets, cloak fluttering, was the masked figure sighted earlier, striding slowly but elegantly down the path. They could see him better now, a sealing helmet of ceramics and titanium covering his head, red and purple eye insignia marking the hems of the cloak, a strange echo of Zero's costume. Upon seeing the insignia and noting the way this man walked, several members of the audience couldn't help but say (audibly or not) "_Nooo…_". He came to a halt on the university coat of arms, his invisible gaze shifting over their raptly attentive faces. He spoke, voice distorted, but unmistakable in timbre. "So you all came as commanded, the way it was…" The creature let out an amused chuckle which filled the room thanks to the sound system. "Very good. You're used to obeying my orders already. I suppose this mask has no use here and now, since most of you have figured out who I am already. I must apologize, but there will be times when my eyes will be closed during my talk. This is not meant as insult, but it is a necessity." The crowd drew breath apprehensively as he tapped the sheathing device on his helmet, some futilely fumbling around for shades. *_clikclickclikclik* _

Some gasped at they saw, some merely nodded, but it all came down to the same thing: Lelouch Von Britannia was standing before them, face untouched by the years. His narrowed eyes glowed like ignited coals, crackling slightly as if the energy within could not fully be contained. His expression was unreadable. Some saw a Demon, others saw a man possessing a power Man was not meant to grasp. They all stayed silent, awaiting his words. "So, do you wish to ask me questions first, or shall I proceed with outlining my plans? I imagine you must have quite a few unanswered ones that you simply _must_ ask. We have plenty of time to spend, and I will answer your questions truthfully. However, remember that my purpose here was primarily to detail and distribute my plan." He said in a slightly resigned tone, sitting down in the chair behind the coat of arms, staring up at them expectantly. The resulting silence was deafening, seething with dread, anger, and in some hopeful quarters, curiosity; hatred was not on anyone's minds, as all there had at least a basic reckoning of Lelouch's Requiem plan. Kaguya rose first, hands resting on the guardrail, expression serious (the effect being ruined slightly by a highly raised eyebrow). "I believe we will first ask the questions, Lelouch. A measure of trust and understanding is needed before we listen to any of your crazy plans. Don't you agree?"

Lelouch inclined his head in acknowledgment, and then snorted with a mocking smirk. "Trust, you say. Ha-ha. So a bunch of traitors want to ask me about trust. Ironies like this make my day…" He stared at the now grumbling and angry crowd, face twisting into a snarl (which shut them up). "Denial. How I loath it. Very well, ask away. Remember, hands up if you have one." More muttering, but subdued this time. Nagisa raised her sword up in the air (instantly, the eyes of the thralls all swiveled in her direction) as she asked in a taut voice. "How do we know you didn't bring us all here silence us, or worse, make us your slaves? You're showing a lot of spite for someone who wants us to listen to you."

His answer was completely toneless, but his face clearly showed a great deal of anger. "Did you not just hear Kallen say there going to be no bloodshed? Or do you not _trust_ her?" He paused, letting his words sink in and spiral into a nasty, awkward silence punctuated by embarrassed and nervous coughs. His expression at that point could be said to be an unholy fusion of a smile and an imitation of a rabid shark. In other words, feral. His tone on the next words was equally unpleasant, sadistically gleeful with an under-tone of fury. "If I had wanted you silenced, I would have done so already; with the exceptions of Kaguya and Xingke, all of you would be either hanging from lamp-posts or shot. As if I wasn't severely tempted as the Emperor after that stupidity with Schniezel and Damocles. Tell me, do you _care_ how many people your leaders kill for you NOT to follow them?" He shook his head, still glaring at Nagisa. "Anyway, this has obviously not come to pass. I don't want you all to die. However Nagisa, if you wish to join the Letters, I have plenty of them; but what's one more, eh?" One eye went wide, the feral smile still there. "NO!"

He scowled, eyes closed again. "Tch! Then stop making presumptions. And also, why don't you trust the words of comrade, someone who has proven in the past that she wouldn't harm any of you?! Oh, I remember what happened back on the _Ikaruga_ _very_ well. You were willing to shoot THROUGH her just to get at me. I have to stop this little interrogation to have one of my own. You trusted the word of Schniezel. Why? Furthermore, why didn't you simply calm down and talk me NOT at gunpoint?! Answer me NOW!" He snarled, gripping the armrests of his chair, knuckles whitening. At this point, everyone in the room looked severely uncomfortable. Kallen looked at this council as if she had never seen any of them before… And was mortified by what she saw. Ohgi was the first to speak, rising determinably, but not looking at Lelouch. "You hid things from us for one thing. That power for instance. How were we to know you hadn't used it on us already? How were to know that you hadn't turned Kallen into one of---" The overlord leapt to his feet, visage florid with anger. "If she had been, would she have ceased to be Kallen Kouzuki?! NO! Does it make a difference in Hell if she was one?! Admit to your mistake already! I know you're smarter than that. Why would I lie at this point? what purpose would it serve? Furthermore, what's the point of lying to yourself?"

He looked directly at Ohgi, eyes flashing open with a blazing glare. The man swallowed, all conviction or confidence gone from his face, to be replaced with miserable remorse. "There is no excuse. We let all our suspicions, all our fears, to overtake us. Kallen, there are no words to say how sorry I am…" He looked down at Lelouch, an almost tired anger on his face. "Whatever we did, though, there are many things that you have to explain to us, too. You want to be able to trust us? Then you'll have to give us more information for us to trust you, and avoid situations like this. May we continue with the questions?" Lelouch glared up at him for a moment, and then sat down. "The civility you never gave me. Huh. All of you, consider this your second chance. Let us continue."

There was some muttering still, which took a frosty look from Kallen to shut up. The silence was incredibly awkward, a feeling of shame greatly present. A dial tone came from Xingke's laptop; from the vid-link, one could see that the man looked annoyed, almost incredulous. "I'm beginning to see why you imposed all of that harshness on our forces after the Civil War. That was a punishment, wasn't it? Furthermore…" He looked around what little of the hall the link received, and then shook his head. "Why did you let Schniezel on board? FLEIJA's detonation would _not_ call for a difference in modus operandi, only a mop-up operation and then damage control. Also, why wasn't I told the full details of all this, beyond simply Zero's identity?" He scowled at them, getting a load of hemming and hawing instead of an answer. He sighed, then turned to the equally frustrated Kaguya. "Miss Sumeragi, judging by your face, you weren't briefed beyond his identity either. As it stands, would some changes in the command structure be in order?" Kaguya nodded, glaring around at the audience, who seemed to shrink under her gaze. "Yes, yes it would." She turned to address them, disappointment and disgust underlying her tone. "Your behavior in that matter is atrocious. The same goes for allying with Schniezel the second time, after he demonstrated quite clearly his disregard for human life, or sanity. Your credibility with me has gone down the , for the moment there are still a few things I don't understand, so this 'trial' will continue. Namely, the subject of the first question: when you're confronting a man with a messed up past, who's suddenly come back from the dead, why isn't the first question you're asking HOW IN HELL ARE YOU ALIVE?!!" The crowd jumped at this, then showed various expressions of embarrassment. Kaguya huffed, shaking her head. "Why has the amount of common sense in this room been this marginal? Don't think you can just sit there laughing at me Lelouch, I'm haranguing you too." The Demon smirked with amusement, an eyebrow raised. "Very good, I was wondering why that wasn't the first too." His eyes opened, glimmering darkly. "It displays a certain... skewing of priorities, don't you think? Oh well. The answer to that question is very simple." He pointed over at C.C., who rolled her eyes. "To put it equally simply, I am now like her, immortal and regenerative. For all intended purposes, I am invincible. I revived for the first time after Zero Requiem was brought to it's conclusion. I did indeed die, as everyone who receives this power must, but my death activated it. So now you're stuck with me. How I got that ability, I frankly don't think would help the case for my sanity."

The crowd stared at him. Most of them were either dumbstruck, or putting their hands over their eyes, completely silent.

Tohdoh rose this time, brows furrowed, angular face made even sharper by the deepened scowl. "Why did you eliminate the JLF? Yes, that remnant was small, but we could have been of help! I thought that with actual military experience, they would have been useful as trainers or the like. Explain, please."

There were quite a few angry mutters on this one, which were silenced by a raised palm from Lelouch; he turned back to Tohdoh and Nagisa, pointing at them, expressionless. "You WERE of help. The Four Holy Swords and you were, and still are, quite useful. General Katase and his tiny remnant would _not_ be useful. Most of those aboard that ship were either his command staff or some of the leftover troopers, no knightmare pilots. As for their own general usefulness, none of them was used to guerrilla warfare, only traditional combat; thus, they wouldn't be that helpful as trainers or just foot soldiers either. The staff also proved their willingness to use typical terrorist methods, such as taking hundreds of innocents hostage; This I would not allow. Having General Katase would also foul up the chain of command, as it would be likely that he would try to assert some authority over me, and at the very least divide loyalties. The Four Holy Swords and Tohdoh the Miracle Worker were the quality goal I was needing and looking for, nothing else." He said coldly. More angry muttering from around Tohdoh and Nagisa. "Concerning their deaths, however, it was inevitable anyway. Even if I hadn't set that mine, they still would have been killed. That ship wasn't fast enough or well-armed enough to make it past the Britannian fleet. All I did by arming that device was speed up the process and make their deaths mildly useful. Cold as it may sound, that explosion did have its desired effect of disrupting the Britannian forces around the bay. Besides, Tohdoh –'sama'," He gave a frozen smile, sardonic amusement tingeing his words. "Isn't it in one of those warrior codes of yours to die gloriously?" Tohdoh simply glared at him, the warlord's explanation apparently finished.

Minami stood, glasses flashing. "Justify this: the massacre of unarmed men, women, and children within the Chinese Federation. Go on. Tell us how you can justify this. Tell us how a war crime may be done."

Lelouch's face tightened. Crisply and with a precise diction, he spoke. "Yes. I can justify it. First of all, define unarmed. If, by unarmed, you mean lacking guns, rockets, and knightmares, then yes, they were. If you take into account that each and every one of those… _creatures _were like me, psychicly augmented, trained from when they could first walk to kill without thought, to infiltrate, and to serve to the will of Britannia, putting their myriad powers to use as assassins and agents, then they didn't need guns for their typical assignments. By that count, they _were_ the weapons. As lethal as they were, their primary combat role would be anti-personnel. Therefore, I chose the most effective means of eliminating them: Give no mercy, and hit them with attacks normally used for tanks and vehicles." A sickening smirk started creeping up his face. "Only a few of them had any psychokinetic powers that could be used on the pilots themselves. And they…*Hehhheh* were swiftly cut down." He gasped, seemingly forcing his features back into that cold state. "I obliterated them. Now there are only two who possess the power of the Geass. A rule of two, as it were."

Again, Xingke's laptop let out another blaring dial tone. The man directed a piercing, inquisitive stare down on the overlord. "We know you have a talent for manipulation to compliment your power. Why didn't you use this talent of yours to bring them into your service? If what you're saying is true, then they would have been excellent as a psi-ops group of sorts within the Black Knights. You could have said that they were wanting to defect, if you wanted to conceal your powers. So why did you eliminate them instead?"

For a moment, Lelouch just glowered at the screen, his façade of calm almost completely shattered; he answered through gritted teeth. "Would you believe that I had personal reasons for executing that mission, a vendetta I was driven to carry out? The reason I eliminated those… _puppets_ is because I already tried to control one of them. For a while, I thought I had succeeded. But then the psychopath went completely out of control. The price of learning that these living weapons were mentally unstable was the life of a very dear friend. If you wish to know anything more, ask Villetta. You won't get anything more out of me on that subject."

Ohgi raised his hand, quizzical. "Why did you found the Black Knights? Was the liberation of Japan merely a secondary goal to you, a carrot on a stick for us? If so, what was your real goal? Also, there were times when you simply rushed off or just stopped at extremely bad moments." The hegemon sighed resignedly, scowling up at him. "Before I answer, a question for those in the audience who have younger siblings: Tell me, what would you do for their sake? What lengths would you go to? Would you involve yourself in something murky and perilous? Would you give your own lives to protect them? Would you _kill_?"

There was moment of puzzled silence. Then it hit them all like a thunderbolt.

Gasps of comprehension were repeated throughout the hall, heads nodded, but Ohgi stared at him in disbelief. "Y-you started the Black Knights, an army of thousands, threw down and raised up nations, slaughtered millions, all for your SISTER?!"

Lelouch smirked, raising a finger. "Bingo. Yes, my dear Nunnally means a great deal to me. In fact, she's the only family I consider myself to have. I wanted to make a gentle world for her to live in, a peaceful world made by my hands and weapons. Those I care for I make certain are made safe. Those that bring harm to those few... Die. No exceptions. No mercy. I will NOT tolerate any violations of my rule. However, this can lead to some problems, as you have observed. That time with the Black Rebellion and the Tokyo battle was caused by Britannian agents kidnapping my sister. That costly raid on that escort fleet over the Pacific was for the purpose of retrieving her also. Freeze-ups? Either she's in danger, or one of my plans has fallen through. You know, if you look at me from that angle, I'm a very simple man. I just want to keep my friends and family safe, make them happy too."

He smirked, a twisted and humorless expression. "Of course, that would be forgetting my _other_ primary motivation: Revenge. When I was just nine years old, on a day that should have been like any other, my innocence was irretrievably broken. My mother, Lady Marianne von Britannia, was shot dead, lying with my sister in a pool of their own blood. Nunnally's mind and capability were violated, her legs forever broken, her eyes forced shut by 'trauma'. This… should have been impossible. Ideally, the security for a Royal, let alone a Consort should have kept it from happening. But no. After the event, I confronted my father on his negligence over the protection of his wife and children. He was the most powerful man on the face of the Earth! He could have done it. At the least, he could have showed some kind of concern, some sign of grief; even righteous anger would have pleased me. And then he banished me, angry at me for bringing up the damn point! Angry at me for daring to bring Nunnally to his attention!" At this point, he was breathing hard, face flushed with rage at the memory. "So I was flung across the ocean with her like discarded trash, not a care in the world for our safety, to live with a corrupted politician and his son. And then I saw the Land of the Rising Sun **burn**. That was the last straw. I swore on that day to OBLITERATE Britannia and its power-crazed royal family, interrogating each of those I managed to catch about the truth regarding my mother's death. Seven years later, I received the opportunity to enact that oath. You remember this well, Ohgi, Tamaki, Kallen: The Battle of Shinjuku, where we _annihilated_ a whole regiment of Britannian armor within ten minutes. You might be curious as to what happened after the retreat from that battle, how Clovis died. Simple: I snuck into his G1 base with the blessing of the Geass, and with that same blessing interrogated that clueless fop. Then I shot the fool in the head for his attempt to exterminate Shinjuku. He had the gall to beg mercy from me before I executed him. I gained the next pieces of the puzzle from the mincing oaf, though: Cornelia Li Britannia and Schniezel El Britannia. I would make certain I broke and humiliated both of them before I wrenched the truth from their lips. That's why I repeatedly launched attacks on Cornelia. My goal was to get in close and Geass her into telling me what I wanted to know. The fact that I failed repeatedly was only due to circumstance, as even in her great competence, she was not on my level. Only slightly below, as proven in the Seitama Ghetto debacle, it still counted though. Her arrogance was another reason to bring her down a few rungs, to snap the invincible Witch of Britannia and her ego. Such would be a heavy blow to Britannian forces in the surrounding areas, and a strike at Britannian morale in total. Defeating Clovis was too easy to be a real blow to them, so striking at her would have more effect.

In the end, I caught up with her, and used my Geass. Strangely, she said that Marianne had withdrawn most of the guard that day. Next piece of the puzzle, Schniezel. The only one out of my elder siblings that I had any real respect for. He was untouchable, unreachable, just as crafty as me, but calmer. I didn't have any real reason to revenge myself on him. However, he was an obstacle in my path to the Emperor and had to be brought down at some point, as all obstacles should be. Then things got strange. Suffice it to say, before I became Emperor, my predecessor was not who or what I thought he was. Were I to attempt to explain further, you'd think I was _completely_ out of my mind as opposed to just unhinged." He puffed out a sigh, shaking his head. "My motivations have changed. At the moment, Zero Requiem is to be preserved, or at least salvaged. The rise of Harold Saxon complicates this immensely, as has his recent show of aggression. I'm referring to that firestorm at Narita, the old fortifications of which I had requisitioned and improved for my purposes. But that is a later matter, for when we are done with this questioning. You have something you wish to ask, Tamaki?"

The fellow had stood up, hand raised tentatively, an unusual sight for those used to the abrupt and brash Tamaki. "Uh, yeah. Could someone get a mike up here, please?" One of the thralls fired a rappel gun at the rail, then handed her headset to him with a smirk. Amused eyebrows raised across the hall. He seemed a little off-put by this as he coughed into the receiver. "Err, thanks. For any of you guys out that are either still not convinced, or don't feel like idiots, I believe him. As he said, and as you might've noticed, we're all still alive right now. He could've killed us if he wanted to, and judging by the whole 'not perforated' thing, he didn't want to. As long as we don't piss him off, we won't get hammered.

I've also noticed some things to back up what he said. Remember when he went nuts after Kallen got snatched in the Chinese Federation, and it took Diethard to talk him down from charging after her? Remember all those times he saved our asses, since the beginning? Hey, I'll admit that he probably needed soldiers with the whole firing squad save, but that trick with the bubbles couldn't have been without at least a little bit of goodwill. There's something else, what got us to follow him in the first place for as long as we did: he gave us choices. Now most of those had death as the other option if we refused, but there were some that did give us some real choices. Lemme give you an example: Following a leader who wasn't just not Japanese, but a BRITANNIAN! It's kinda obvious when I think about it now, especially when you heard him talk in Japanese with that accent; even more obvious when we heard him speak English. The way those languages sound when learned where they came from, as opposed to needing to learn it, can make a big difference. But I'm rambling here, so I'll get on with it. Anyway, I think he listens to us, and doesn't just see us as pawns or meat-shields. I think we can also stop those rushes if we do something pretty simple: protect his sister. Because as long as she's safe, we don't have to worry about you going berserk, right, Zero?"

The entire hall was speechless, staring in astonished awe at the suddenly lucid and even _intelligent_ sounding comic relief of the Black Knights. Not even C.C. and the thralls, by far the least emotive people there, could refrain from goggling at him in surprise. Lelouch stared at him, one eyebrow arched high enough to start disappearing into his hairline. He then burst into a fit of hysterical laughter, which sounded even more demented than what the BK's were used to, resulting in annoyed mutters, including a few 'not again's. Gasping for breath, Lelouch managed to get a hold on his laughter, pointing with a giddy smile at Tamaki. "So,*hee-hee* the loud-mouth is the one to finally get it! HA! Yes, you're right. As long as Nunnally is out of harm's way, nothing tactically unsound will be planned or executed by me. Of course, this would require some cooperation from all of you." His lips twitched. "Stay sober more, Tamaki. I'll put you on cleaning duty less. Now get your combat skills up to scratch, and I'll start assigning you better frames." Tamaki flushed with embarrassment, nodding with a weak smile.

The atmosphere of the room became somewhat less tense at this, but still contained elements of bitterness, shame, and plenty of anger. Tohdoh and Nagisa still looked disgruntled, the Ohgi's kept their gazes strictly directed at the floor, and for the most part, everyone's attitude was more subdued. With a deep sigh, Kaguya rose, looking down on the overlord with a face and tone that tried to be commanding but had an edge to them that was almost pleading. "Lelouch, I wouldn't make your appointment a foregone conclusion just yet. I still need to know just one thing; I ask, no, _command_ you to answer me truthfully. Why did you Geass Princess Euphemia into killing all those people? What happened to let the massacre take place? Did you even intend to do it?"

Abruptly, the atmosphere changed back to that of doubt and fury, those in the bleachers tensing up, quite a few of the unconvinced glaring down on the royal. Any color remaining in Lelouch's face drained, turning it an ashen shade, his jaw slackening a little, any attempt at maintaining a façade of calm failing. He twitched, staring at Kaguya with hollow eyes, speaking in a raspy, unusual voice. "You figured out how I made her do it, eh? And I'm guessing you puzzled out that little statement about closed eyes in the beginning?" She nodded, about to say something further when he continued on, mumbling almost inaudibly. "So you're my Mirror after all… Huh. And I _must_ answer this? Very well." He inclined his head, staring slightly over his questioner, expression completely blank, voice slightly louder, in a monotone. "I didn't want it to happen. The Geassing itself was an accident, out of my control. And yet not. I was told by C.C. that my power would grow over time as it was used more, that would have negative effects on my life. I didn't take her seriously, seeing only power and a tool. I saw an example of the power of Geass gone out of control, saw how it had driven a man completely mad, and swore that I wouldn't let it control me, but even then I still didn't take it seriously, unable to see how the power of Commanding Absolute Obedience could grow." His voice took on a bitter tone at this point. "Then came the announcement by the Princess for the Special Administrated Zone. The SAZ could not be allowed to exist, both because it would backfire hideously, and because it would render the Black Knights impotent. I planned to go there and trick her into shooting me, making the proceedings seem like an elaborate trap for Zero. Then I spoke to her, and I was talked down. Things were going so perfectly… And then I began to explain my power, something I could never have seen myself doing. Right in the middle of explaining it, I lost the ability to toggle the command symbol off. 'Kill all Japanese' was the order she followed. A joke. A joke triggered that nightmare. What happened afterward…"

He stopped, expression still blank, but a visible shudder passing through him; taking a few steadying breaths, he continued, misery and self-hate underlying his tone. "What happened afterward was entirely my fault. My cowardice killed all those thousands. My lack of action." He slumped back in his chair, arms hanging limply at his sides, expression clearly showing his misery and his attempts to regain composure. "At the instant she was hit with it, I should have killed her. I could have stopped the bloodbath. But I didn't. I couldn't." his voice broke. The audience at this point had either let their curiosity mix with pity, or were still very angry, made even angrier by this show of weakness. He went on, a hint of desperation added to his voice. "Why didn't I do it then? Did I simply freeze?" he faltered. "Maybe I had thought that **I** _personally _wouldn't have to kill her, with my own hands. Maybe I had some insane hope that I wouldn't have to kill her at all, that I could stop her and save her, keep her safe until a way was found to counteract the command." Jeremiah hung his head at this, no doubt saddened that he had been changed far too late to help his master. Lelouch continued, voice taut with forced control and intensity. "But _I_ had to kill her. The damage had been done, and I, for the sake of Zero's image, had to do it. So many were dead already, and no one had managed to stop her. And then, just seeing her smiling as she gunned down any who got in her path, smiling that same gentle smile as she saw me, blood splattered across her dress and face…" He trailed off again, shuddering at the horror of the memory. "I had no choice. Zero had to take responsibility for the massacre, as damage control. He had to be seen dispatching the… Massacre Princess. But did I do it for myself, my plans… or did I do it for her own sake?" he rasped, voice cracking. At that point, he seemed to crumple before them, slumping back in his chair to gaze with haunted eyes at the ceiling, as if looking at someone or something none other could see. This whole time, C.C. and Kallen were looking worriedly over at him, Kaguya's eyes beginning to water. His next words were tinged with disgust, and just a little self-loathing. "I used her. I turned her into one of my pawns and didn't stop her in time. I used the actions she had no control over to advance my own plans. But when I killed her… did I do it to disperse some tiny iota of the guilt and remorse over having forced her to do something so horrible, so completely counter to what she was, over killing so many innocents needlessly?" He closed his eyes, voice shaking slightly. "Or did I kill her because I didn't want one of the sweetest, most noble beings on the face of this Earth, the first woman I ever loved, to become a traumatized self-hating husk of her former self when she threw off the control?" His eyes opened slowly, as if waking from a nightmare, and the crowd gasped. Tears were streaming down his face, the effect in tandem with his blazing eyes somewhat unnerving. Kaguya sniffled just a little, Ohgi looking on, aghast. "God… so this was what was hidden under the mask. No wonder he'd started to fall apart at the seams after FLEIJA." A few others surrounding him nodded solemnly, including even Villetta. Tamaki muttered to those around him, equally shocked. "I knew that the Royal Family was screwed up, but this… Damn. Poor bastard."

Kaguya turned to Xingke, who'd gone a little pale himself. "Should we continue this? I'm thinking he's had enough. Do you think we need to hear anymore explanations? So far we've covered the more contentious things, and getting into his head might be the most crucial thing of all."

He nodded, raising the volume on the speakers remotely. "To everyone here: Have all the questions asked as of now been answered to your satisfaction? Is there anything further that you wish to ask?"

Variations on yes to the first (however grudging), and no to the second (with requests for more later) answered him. "Very well then. Lelouch!"

From the end of his monologue to this point, he had been in a sort-of depressed torpor, eyes glazed over, staring off at one of the guardrails aimlessly. He seemed to jerk 'awake' at this, his movements almost drunken in manner, completely expressionless, but somehow giving off a feeling of being harried by crows. When he spoke, he sounded almost relieved. "I take it I can proceed with detailing what I have planned? Or is _trust_ still an issue?" Much of the audience winced at the bitterness he put on that word, egos still smarting from his rant earlier. Tohdoh rose to speak, tone neutral, but with an edge to it. "We've established that you won't obliterate us should we displease you. We've established that you are a fairly complex man. We've established that we made large mistake betraying you. We have _not _established trust. We have not established your _sanity_, either. However, we will listen to whatever plan you have, and why you dragged us out here. Maybe you'll prove how rational you are then."

The hegemon stared up at him for a moment, then tried to give one of his trademark grins, but ended up making it look tired, most of the actual malice gone. "It'll be a bit like old times, eh? Time for me to put up or shut up, just like I did all those years ago. Funny how you need further proof of my competence, but oh well. Why don't I give you a reason to put faith in me, instead? Like I thought I did so long ago… " He stood, a bit more steadily than the crowd would have thought, and brought a strange cylindrical device out of his pocket, fiddled with it, then set it on the ground. With a whirring hum, it started up, casting a holographic display above the university crest. The bluish light resolved itself into lines of text, a profile on Harold Saxon, and a detailed map of the Pacific, black for allied, red for wherever Saxon held territory. And then, he began detailing his plan. Jaws either dropped or twisted in the smiles that meant, 'this is completely insane, but IT CAN WORK!'.

And every single thrall and retainer, from Jeremiah to C.C., _grinned._

**Ε**

Outside of the Assembly Hall, all was fairly quiet on campus. Two squads from the Beta Company milled about, making sure no one was out, and no one was there to interrupt the proceedings inside. Since there was a sizable amount of greenery on campus, this was fairly easy, the cloud cover making it even easier not to be seen. Tiredness or boredom weren't really a trouble to these soldiers, due to their condition, but a little excitement did liven up the evening. Most of the time, it was some bunch of students getting back to their dorms late(who were spooked into hurrying up by the flitting, red-eyed shadows in the corners of their eyes) for one reason or another(partygoers drunkenly hauling themselves off to bed, couples hugging each other while their eyes anxiously scanned the shadows). Overall, they thought they were in for a fairly nondescript evening.

An understandable, if rather large mistake.

From the campus gates, two figures trotted: a tall, slender man in a blue suit and billowing greatcoat, now confirmed as their master's xeno advisor, the Doctor. The other they were unfamiliar with. Green suit jacket, red shirt, and pinstriped slacks. They couldn't quite make out her face, but they could see the shiny locks of blonde hair she had. As such, the Doctor was talking animatedly to this woman, who was steadily getting more and more incredulous.

"Seriously Doctor, what is this? I can see the lights on in there and all, but what exactly's going on? I mean, I figure you're not the type to be an ax-murderer, but---" The Time Lord smiled mischievously. "Trust me, I think you'll like what I'm about to show you." One of her eyebrows arched. "Which is?"

"An old friend. Much healthier than you might think…" he said distractedly, eyeing the shadows.

"Alright, who is it?" Again, the Doctor smiled. "Trust me, it'll be a pleasant surprise. Wait-a-minute…" He stared directly into the shadow of an oak tree, then spoke, raising his voice. "You lot can come out now. I know you're there. So stop scaring my guest with those glowing eyes of yours." There was a frustrated grunt, then with a whisper of disturbed leaves, a figure in black descended to the ground, making an 'OK' signal with his hand, four more of the umbrous troopers moving out of whatever cover they had been using. "Were you going to stop me from getting into that hall if I got any closer?" The Time Lord asked sternly. Although the woman typically wasn't used to being spooked or even unnerved, she certainly was now, having glimpsed those shadows as she had walked across the grounds. As if the demeanor of these soldiers wasn't already disquieting, she noticed the insignia on their armbands and flinched (_No way. Is that what I think it is? Oh God, what have I let myself get dragged into?!_). The corporal nodded, noticed where her gaze was going, then looked sharply at the Doctor. "Our master instructed us to not let in anyone until he is finished with his business. Furthermore, no one 'out-of-touch' can be allowed in here, _under __**any **__circumstances._" The troopers began pulling out nightsticks, and in the corporal's case, a stunner. The woman inhaled with a hiss, backing off a little, but the Doctor held her steady, giving the man a half-innocent, half-wheedling look, complete with gestures and a slight whine. "Oh come on, she knows him! She's completely capable of keeping secrets." He turned to her, face once again completely innocent. "Aren't you, Miss?"

She was a little startled by this, but played along with it (_This guy is bizarre! You don't mess around with Revenants!_), nodding vigorously. " Yeees, I'd say I most definitely do that. _What the HELL are you doing, Doctor?_" she hissed in his ear, on the edge of panic. He just smiled that Cheshire cat smile, continuing whatever he was trying to do with this officer. "You'll let us in. Part of why you will is because your master, git as he is, didn't stipulate that those of a higher rank that were 'in-the-know' wouldn't be allowed in, did he? What's the highest rank out here, a sergeant? And mine? Oh yes, _Major_. So would you kindly step aside and let me and my guest go in? I believe he would be displeased if he found out that an old and no-doubt dear friend of his was kept away. Also, isn't he just about done in there?"

To her amazement, the corporal seemed confused, as did the soldiers with him. "Errr... I suppose you can... Just so you know, this woman won't be leaving the premises without His Majesty's clearance."

The Doctor nodded sternly, then led his charge towards the Assembly Hall doors at brisk (not quite running) walk. Said charge was not pleased. "Waitaminute, you're with THEM?! What do you psychopaths want with me?! Lemme go!"

The Doctor scowled, keeping his grip on her arm firm but not tight, not looking back. "I'm only with them by technicality, not much by choice. And trust me, we'll be much safer in there when the mooks out here figure out that my pulling rank is bogus…" Her eyes went wide at that, but she decided to go along with it, if only to figure out who 'His Majesty' was beyond those doors. Fifteen meters away from the entranceway, a shout of frustration rang out against the quiet night air. "GET BACK HEEEEEEERE! HALT, OR YOUR HIDE IS PERFORATED!"

"That's it. RUN!" The Time Lord shouted his well practiced line, and perfected 'what-the-hell-is-that-thing-Idunno-SCRAM' sprint, dragging the woman along as tranquilizing darts whistled past her head and feet to clatter against the masonry or dig themselves in the grass. "You act like this is normal." She gasped. The Doctor's response was to grin like a madman. "I know. Innit great?!"

VhhhhhhhhZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

The Doctor looked up to see the two soldiers rappelling down, this time armed with live assault rifles.

"Charge the door! NOW!" He shouted, readying a shoulder charge. The woman squawked, but again, couldn't do much else.

**WHAM!**

To the surprise of both of them, it was knocked open on the first try, so that they staggered through to crash down onto the floor. Utter silence met them. The woman simply lay there, facedown, thinking. _Okay, now what? What's going on here? _ She looked up, brushing the hair out of her eyes, and she had to remember to continue breathing. Not only was there roughly a platoon of those troopers standing there, their rifles leveled, but beyond the fancy holographic display was a figure that she'd thought she'd never see again except in her dearest memories… and most terrible nightmares.

Standing before her, dressed in the gothic finery of the Shadow Empire, staring and gawking at her in disbelief, was Lelouch. "M-Milly?!" He stammered out, looking completely out of sorts.

"Lelouch?"

She picked herself up, staring at the spectacle. Familiar and prominent faces could be seen throughout the hall: Kallen, eyes wide, mouthing, "Madam Prez???"; Anya Alstreim, eyebrow raised, giving a friendly little wave; that strange, green-haired girl, who at the moment had her hand over her face; The UFN President Sumeragi, who looked like she was torn between laughing and ordering those troopers to throw her out of there. Various other famous (and infamous) members of the Black Knights and the Japanese government stared down at her, again unsure as to what to make of her.

She looked back at Lelouch, who had started glowering in incredulous fury at the Doctor. Said Time Lord simply looked flabbergasted, as if having given someone a gift he thought they'd like, only to hear complaining. The Chronarch squawked indignantly. "What?!"

The warlord put his arms out in front of him, in a gesture of complete exasperation, letting out an equally outraged cry. "_What?!" (which had a similar meaning to 'WHY?!' in this case.)_

Finally, every single lie, clue, and implication clicked in Milly's mind. Lelouch had been Zero. Lelouch was once the Emperor of Britannia. Lelouch had lied to _her_. Lelouch was alive. The result exceeded the volume of the first two. "_**WHAAAAAAT??!!**_"

_BOOMBOOMBOOM-CRRRAAAAAKKKK_

** Ε**

**Central Tower Complex, Perimeter**

Of all the things Tower security thought they were going to have to deal with, an organized strike by Russian mercenaries was most definitely _not it_. It had been a quiet night up until that point, no warnings or signs that everything would be going to hell. Then the first explosions were seen and heard at the side of the perimeter closest to the sea, with secondary detonations happening all over the complex, the explosives planted there at some indeterminate time beforehand. Then the actual hostiles made their appearance. Slamming across the urban jungle, tossing trees and cars aside, came the Czar Krabs. They were something that every single Black Knight on the planet prayed they'd never have to face. These things were designed to combat any sort of enemy, whether they were attacking from land, sea, or air.

Armed with the sort of weaponry one would expect to find on a tracked vehicle, combined with the close combat prowess of a knightmare, the T-61 Maripovs were lethal and highly versatile war machines. A squad of Akatsukis attempted to charge these behemoths as soon as they blasted their way through the perimeter, firing their machine cannons while readying their saw-swords for a synchronized upward slice. Immediately, the Krabs halted, cockpit-mounted antennae twitching and rotating. With a series of clicks and whirrs, the pairs of heavy cannons deployed under the 'chins' of the assault vehicles, effectively in place of the mandibles(the lead Czar had twin-linked flak guns instead), and opened fire with a clank of the leader's claws. It was as if the things had let loose a locust swarm instead of bullets, so thick were they flying through the air. The Akatsuki's were ripped apart in an instant, their pilots not even getting the chance to scream or pray before they were shredded. The lead Krab raised itself and bounced on it's suspension, it's claws clattering madly, as if laughing at easy this was. It reared up like a titanic, freakish horse before scuttling forward at speed with a bang, the razor-sharp pointed feet of it's comrades spearing and breaking the concrete they passed. However unmatched these mercs had been at first, their opponents were still competent, and chosen for such good qualities. Previously installed barricades and walls rose up, troops rushing out to take their positions at their turrets and machine gun nests, fresh knightmares wheeling out from their hangers, determined not just to end this incursion with extreme prejudice, but also to avenge their comrades who had died so unceremoniously.

And from his position watching this busied attempt at readiness like a bird watching so many termites around their tower, Major Vlasov of the Siberian Hollow Men scowled. _So much preparation. So many men on the ground, with dozens and dozens of those steel hotshots assisting them. And it's all going to waste so easily, with so much agony. Hm! Any idiot knows you don't lead a bayonet charge across open field! Swords and knightmares are in no way different. Maybe they'll learn a little lesson in tactics from that. Or maybe they won't live long enough to learn. _ The man chuckled a little, watching the Krabs plow into the forward line of the defenders, using their claws to rip apart any shields protecting the machine guns. Then the security forces began to concentrate their fire, forcing the assault vehicles to back off. Vlasov put his radio receiver up to his mouth, set it to transmit to all capable of hearing the frequency, then whispered a single word: "Loki."

Immediately, the Czars stopped falling back and hunched down. On their backs, titanium dorsal plates just behind the cockpit rose up like a crest. Now, it was generally know that the Maripovs weren't just heavy assault vehicles. They were also APC's, each capable of carrying 15 men on its backside, who held on through handholds, and had the dorsal spines to protect them in transit, and in battle. While the weaponry of the Krab was on it's own devastating, adding the concerted firepower of the riding troopers only made them even more lethal, as they could independently aim. "COME ON YOU BASTARDS! OBLITERATE THESE SWINE ALREADY!"

And so they did, firing a volley of grenade rounds right into the forward positions, slaughtering many who couldn't escape in time, and knocking over several burais and Akatsukis. Then the Krabs redeployed their missile racks. And Hell itself broke the Earth asunder.

Major Vlasov grinned, watching the terrified chaos on the ground and throughout the tower below him as his transport moved in even closer. He started openly cackling as the full context of Operation Loki became a reality: across the Centrum, soldiers put their hands to their receivers, and heard the word; they then either knocked their supposed comrades unconscious, or shot them in the back. Those stationed at artillery positions took over and started redirecting their fire towards the defenders' stations. Those in knightmares threw chaos grenades and fired their anti-tank ordinance straight into the cockpits of their squadmates, killing them instantly. As the aerial division of the security forces rose, Vlasov ambled over to the cockpit, and whispered another word into the co-pilot's ear: "Valhalla"

Magyars. Incredibly powerful, unbelievably fast, European designed heavy gunships and transports. Vlasov had seven under his command. And each of them had every shell of ordinance. The inferior Hanagata-class choppers that had been raining death down on the infiltrators were wiped out in a minute, those that managed to get within firing range getting punched out of the air as flaming wrecks, crumpled by the specially designed heavy grapplers the gunships sported. Eight more minutes, and the Tower was wide open. The Czar Krabs raced towards the concourse, the pilots and the troops on their backs VERY conscious of the coming relief from behind them, the crunch of treads on gravel, the whirr of landspinners on grass, and the clomping of boots on rubble. Some personnel dropped off the assault vehicles backs, running to the freshly purged fortifications, eager to put them to what they considered proper use. Any troops who crossed into the perimeter were mowed down, the Russians receiving covering fire from the Magyars and Krabs. Much of the landlocked side of the complex was devastated by the explosives, gaping holes ripped open across it, once purified water now rapidly turning it into a swamp. Infiltrators lurked around the flaming ruins, awaiting their reinforcement by the Russians.

At the base of the Tower was an impromptu moat, with platforms and causeways shielding it from any contaminants normally. Now, large sections of the gridwork had been blown apart, hence the moat. That wouldn't stop the Maripovs, though. They angled themselves to face upwards to the Tower, then fired their heavy grapplers, punching into the scaffolding and hauling themselves up, clanking up to the points where they could storm inside.

The first reports that met Vlasov's ears were positive. So far there was only nominal resistance inside, most of the time just guards falling back to another point after taking potshots. This did not put him at ease. From the information he had been given earlier, Zero was supposed to be here, and would have been directing the battle. If the legend of the revolutionary was true, then this should have been much more of a challenge, perhaps even suicidal. Then again, the Major had been having doubts about the man behind the mask ever since that event three years ago. This Zero was competent, that much was certain, but it was also certain that he wasn't stellar. Quite a few of the Hollow Men and those they associated with thought that someone else had replaced the old one at some point.

Putting those thoughts aside, Vlasov watched the Tower helipads get closer and closer while the rest of the group aimed for strategic points either blasted open or made available by the infiltrators. Normally, the Major would have ordered these men killed, but doing so would likely earn the wrath of his employer, something he did _not _want to risk. Then the volume of the reports rose, the previously confident, sometimes bored tones changing to those of alarm. While it was a given he'd hear gunfire and some screams, he didn't expect many of his men to be a source of those cries.

Although quite a few of these reports were garbled or cut off by a panicked yell, they all seemed to involve a cloaked maniac running about with a katana, moving too fast for the mercs to aim at him properly. _Oho. So you've finally come out to play hero? Fine then._

"All squads, be on the lookout for the Caped Crusader. Shoot to *kill*. I'm off to the objective." He made sure to make this a broadcast on all channels. The objective was, of course, the 'Throne Room'. Domestic Coordinator Nunnally von Britannia would be there, as that room was designed to be easily fortified,and was already impervious to anything but a heavy bombardment. Not that it would matter. The Major had requested that five Krabs enter the Tower specifically for this. _If he does what I think he will..._

It didn't take very long for them to blast down the doors to the room, and as expected, Zero was there, along with two surviving squads of the guards. The supposed hero walked forward, sword at the ready.

The Major was standing at the head of his own column of troops, expressionless.

The Coordinator seemed to be making an attempt at stoicism, a typical tenet of Royal Protocol. Her eyes told a different story, fearful, that even her protector, the once-great Zero, wouldn't survive the night.

In a strong, clear voice, she commanded. "If you stand down now, whoever you are, there is a chance that you will at least be given a trial. You might even live. If you do not surrender now, however, I can't guarantee---"

She broke off as the Major started guffawing, his troops joining him. Zero spoke, annoyed. "What's so funny about the Coordinator's mercy?"

The Major straightened up, sneering a little. "You think we want that? We were paid to do this. We get the job done. And also, this isn't so much work. This is enjoyment. This is sport. And just like any big-time players, we get paid well. So stuff that 'mercy' up your asses. That includes you, impostor."

'Zero' flinched, then lunged forward. Vlasov clapped his hands, and the Maripovs launched a set of canisters into the room. The canisters discharged their soporific contents, while the Siberians put on their masks. Only Zero had anything resembling air filters, but even if the gas wouldn't effect him immediately, the discharge was enough to distract him.

This moment was long enough for the Major to clamp him with his shock prod, delivering sufficient voltage to disrupt the systems of the helmet, disengaging it. The electrical shock, combined with the gas, was what flattened the man, his helmet bouncing off as he hit the ground.

Nunnally fell limply back into her wheelchair, the delicate hand reaching out dropping onto the armrest, an expression of anguish on her face.

None of the soldiers quite knew what to make of that, since the gas didn't have a symptom of pain for those who breathed it in, but forgot soon after as they peered at the man lying prone on the floor.

Vlasov ambled over to him, toeing his head, then reaching to pull him up by his dark brown hair. The face that had enraged millions three years ago was within his grasp, eyes flickering shut.

"Well well well, this is unexpected. Suzaku Kururugi…"

It was then that the Major realized the full reasoning behind his strangely specific orders, realizing what exactly he had been hired to do, and burst into a fit of manic laughter, which his men didn't echo, looking worriedly at him and at each other. He fell to the floor, hammering at it, then stood, dragging the unconscious Kururugi up to eye level, glaring at him. "So you're alive, you son of a bitch. And if you're alive, and you faked your death, then it means your friend may not be dead as everyone thinks. Huhuhu..." He chuckled menacingly.

He punched the knight in the jaw at full force, his limp body slamming into the right wheel of Nunnally's wheelchair. "Always wanted to do that. You lot, drag him and any other prisoners off to the detention section; I want them alive for later. Leave the waif; we'll need her if we want to maybe get out of here alive. What do I mean? I mean that this mission is a trap, and she is the bait. We're about to have a very angry wolf-pack on our hands, and I don't mean those amateurs in the JAF. I mean the Demon.

So listen up. We need to turn this place into a bolthole. If we need those cloak-and-dagger scum to help, then we'll press them into it. Post guns. Position the Maripovs. Mine the lower levels if you have to. Let's make this place the hell a real demon would like!"

He fired his Kalashnikov into the ceiling to emphasize the point, the fearful, hopeless expressions on the mercs faces changing to gleeful smiles, their muttering to bloodthirsty cheers.

As the prisoners were dragged off, Vlasov turned to face the Coordinator, teeth bared. "I will survive your brother, waif. At least I'll live long enough to drag myself to Britain and strangle that Whitehall bastard there!"

**7:23 AM, Airspace above the Administrative Perimeter**

**Lelouch Von Britannia stared down at the many structures and vehicles below, eyes and expression frigid. He took his sword from his scabbard with a hiss of metal as the hanger portholes opened with the howl of the wind, and said a single word: "Attack".**

**Ε Ε Ε**

_Ladies and Gentlemen: this is Epsilon. Kindly tell me what you think. I must apologize for the delays that have happened, and this is my way of doing it. I will come back to edit this, just so you know. Anyway, I would appreciate your feedback. Ask, and I shall answer._

_If you can type English, fire away. If you can't, fire away anyway; I'll translate it. I'm rather curious about foreign reviewers.  
_

_I would be happy to hear an explanation on how Japanese first and last names work, as the 'Villetta Ohgi' confusion was driving me nuts.  
_


	6. Chapter 6: Zeta

4-12-09

_Author note: Since there has been some repeated confusion what with me bringing in a whole slew of new knightmare frames, I decided to try and remedy the problem. Know this though: The battlefield is chaotic. It is meant to be chaotic, no matter how organized a force is. There will be factions using the same knightmares as the other. Take for instance the British using Britannian knightmares. Note that Britannia will eventually become involved in this. Note that in this chapter's case, the Russians will have commandeered Akatsukis to assist their Maripovs. The JAF will be using newer frames. _

_Russian: T-61 Maripovs, Akatsukis, Magyar gunships /// JAF/ Black Knights: Takeda interceptors, Ieyasus/// Empire in the Shadows: Strike Sutherlands, Sieg Ziz (Jeremiah Gottwald), NKR-01 'Nobunaga/ St. George' (Lelouch Von Britannia), Morgana (C.C.), Crowley, Hanzo (pay attention and you'll know who pilots these!)/// Galloglasses (Pay attention…) Pronunciation note: Ivan- EEvAHn. Now, enjoy this war and drama festival! With added Lelouch insanity… _

_A warning to you lot. This is not for wee ones. I'd rate this chapter borderline mature. Expect a level of intensity ABOVE Delta. Before something ELSE happens..._

_Just to let you know, I haven't lost my mind..._

Zeta (**Ζ**) Post Requiem Turn 6

7:24 AM, Tokyo Disaster Zone

It had been a terrible night for the JAF and the Black Knights. 90% casualties had been estimated for the Tower security forces, not counting the traitors and infiltrators. Only twenty seven men had escaped the tower alive, the rest either being held prisoner or trapped in the bowels of the complex, radio reports(some thought deliberately let out by the Siberians) sending out steadily less heartening news of the declining mental state of the survivors. The mercs were seemingly pumping a chemical fume down to their level, Ranclazine, as analyzed by their unique charge housed (some would say leashed) in the sakuradite extraction facility. This chemical had been carried by the lead gunships, with the insidious purpose of flushing any remaining resistance out: Ranclazine was designed to drive anyone who inhaled it gradually into a berserk, homicidal state by deactivating the parts of the brain associated with calm, logic, and reason. Since the gas was designed recently as a combat stimulant by the Russian Army, and at that it was a failure, there was no known cure for the conditions it brought about. Strangely, the charge of the facility, Advisor Penitent Schniezel 'El Serpento' Britannia, seemed only slightly affected, maintaining that infamously calm demeanor throughout the hourly reports. Perhaps his strength of will enabled him to overcome the compound. Or perhaps he already had an estranged relationship with reason. Whatever the answer, the man was one of the few things keeping a sense of reason down there (aside from the dust masks installed, which were losing effectiveness by the hour), keeping the troops from charging the Siberians. But this was only one horror of that night, one disaster which had its effect only within the tower, logistically.

The other, much more far-reaching, incident that night was the broadcast at midnight of Coordinator Nunnally, tied down to her wheelchair, trying her best to keep calm, despite the many armed mercenaries behind her. The man in charge of this assault, Major Vlasov, had one arm resting on the wheelchair handle, leaning on it, while the other idly rotated a Kalashnikov. The Major was smiling impishly (somehow pulling it off very well for a man in his late forties) into the camera, as if he had just made a bad joke at a party, lacking any of the sort of seriousness one would expect from a mercenary addressing the world. "To the Holy Empire of Britannia and the 'esteemed' Federation of Nations: Do you want your precious little Czarina back? I _can_ give her back you know, I just have to ask a little favor of you, a little lessening of your coffers and some of your resources. Five million pounds sterling, and the abandonment of both Britannian outposts in Siberia, as well as, obviously, letting us go. Of course, knowing you, Empress Cornelia, you won't give in that easily. But, I must ask, how would it feel to lose _yet another_ sister?"

He whirled around, grabbing the side of the Coordinator's head and pressed the muzzle of the gun into the other side, smile still intact. The girl swallowed, staring straight ahead, delicate knuckles white from gripping the armrests. "If any of you pitiful jaffs try anything, this one will die. But then again, we have much better company to look forward to," his smile turned feral, every line on his face contributing to the wolfen image. "Don't we, **Ivan**?" he stared intently into the camera, as if looking a specific someone in the eye. "I know you're there, watching this. If you don't come, or my other demands are not met within twenty-four hours, two things will happen: the first is that Zero, who is in my capable hands, will be unmasked on air. The second thing will be the live execution of your dear sister. So come on, Diavoli, Witch, let's get on with it. Oh, I almost forgot. Do you have any announcements, oh little Czarina?" he asked with mocking sweetness, a sadistic smile stretched across his freeze-chapped lips, the lens focusing in on Nunnally, who at this point was obviously terrified, slightly green and pale. She took a deep breath, and then jerked forward, whispering in a choked voice into the camera. "Cornelia, please, you need to do something. If not for my sake, then for the sake of the plan. For Zero. Any other prisoners in this Tower will be shot too if nothing happens. If not you, then whoever you are Ivan, do something. I don't want anyone more to die needlessly. For these men though, if you choose combat... don't give them mercy." Vlasov raised an eyebrow, and then chuckled. "Oh-hohoho, she has some steel to her after all! Well, do as she says already. 'Give us no mercy'. I'm waiting, Ivan."

The broadcast shut off after that, leaving many of high command wondering what the hell they should do. Tohdoh had arrived just as the mercs had fortified the Tower, and thus was present to hear the entirety of the following bedlam. From the time of his arrival he had tried to get something done in this encirclement, but what officers present (even his own fellow high command) either had no idea how to deal with this situation, or were unwilling to listen to him. They had at least stopped trying to probe the defenses, as without fail, any men who got five feet into the perimeter had their heads splattered like watermelons by sniper rounds. Worse, the Russians seemed to regard it as a sport, so that personnel nowhere near the perimeter, not even having the ranks to be a useful target, were gunned down, a raucous whoop echoing down from the scaffolding.

Hundreds of civilians were dead too, victims of the Mercs first strike, and the myriad explosions caused by the infiltrators. Field hospitals had been set up behind the rubble, just in case the snipers felt particularly vindictive. Dozens of collapsed buildings smoldered away.

Throughout the entire night however Tohdoh knew what was coming, and did his best to reposition the encirclement so that there were distinct gaps in the line, sometimes without telling his colleagues. _If the JAF got in his way, he wouldn't care. He'd just smash through them with the totality of his forces. No protesting would help them if his sister is on the other side._ He winced. No gods could save them if in the chaos, Schniezel escaped.

He kept a vigil at his command post until he saw the faint light-blue tinges of the sun's rising. Nagisa had come here at this time, not attempting any conversation, just staring determinedly out at the Tower. When the sky took on a watery green light, she spoke. "Was it the right thing to go along with this, or are we once again moving away from that familiarity?" The general took in a breath before speaking. "I'm beginning to think this is the first major thing in the right we've done in 3 years. At least we have valid reason for doing this, unlike that time three years ago. It's true, Nagisa. To put it bluntly, we all screwed up that day by overreacting, and then again with Schniezel. The least we can do here is reducing the amount of collateral damage." She nodded, still unsure.

The sky turned a burnt red, and the Sound could be heard.

Off in the landlocked side of Tokyo, hundreds of armored shapes raced across buildings and streets, forcing any traffic to scramble out of their way, unless they wished to be crushed. The whirr of high traction wheels, the whine of jet boosters powering up, and the squeak of treads all combined to form a preamble to a symphony of war. Tohdoh took out his binoculars, tensing up as he did so. Upon the lead APC's and knightmares flew the flags of the Shadow Empire, golden eagles holding scarlet and Purple eyes on black backgrounds. The lead Sutherland shined a reflector his way. Immediately he ordered his men of the 3rd, 5th, and 8th companies to let these men through, under the explanation of being just another spec-ops group from overseas. It was a known quality that the various special units and armies across the world were permitted their own heraldry and theming, an allowance given by both 'Zero' and Cornelia, surprisingly. It would be a passable enough excuse, but not for some of the other generals. As such, he ignored the protests coming from his radio (in fact, since he was effectively the commander of the JAF, he didn't have to answer to them anyway), knowing that the companies of Black Knights were on the port side part of the perimeter, and even if they didn't approve of these strange reinforcements, they couldn't do anything about it.

Of course, this was thought without the consideration of either army being compromised. Or their hatred of Revenants. He heard the sound of treads behind him, the sound of tank turrets rotating….

BLAM

A volley of shells screamed over his head, slamming into the lead vehicles. One of the APC's exploded into flame, while another flipped onto its side. The knightmares that weren't bowled over readied their weapons, the oddly modified Sutherlands deploying their gun assemblies. And at the head of the convoy, slaloming from side-to-side was…

"All of you. HOLD YOUR GODSDAMNED FIRE! I don't care what they are, hold your fire! Who ordered you to do this?! I order you to cease-fire, then answer me!" Tohdoh bellowed into the mike. He had to stop them from continuing; otherwise none of them would leave that killing field alive. By the time the panicked, frantically apologetic answers reached his ears, it was far too late. The purple and blue _thing_ began to stretch its long, segmented arms out to sides, curving them like a man holding a globe, droning and humming menacingly, the sound seeming to rend the air itself. Tohdoh winced, dropping to the ground, hands over his ears, closing his eyes, waiting for the blast of sound which would flatten him and everything else in its path. Then, nothing happened, save for a warm, lightly distorted hum. Tohdoh opened his eyes, and gasped at what he saw: The knightmare was standing there, it's back to him, its arms stretched wide, a wall of pure sound shattering the anti-armor rounds the knightmares had been trying to fire past him. The Knightmare activated its speakers, and a familiar voice was heard. "**General Tohdoh, are you alright? Have you found out who ordered those men to open fire? I'm trying to cut down on unnecessary deaths here!**"

Tohdoh smiled. It was that strange man who had burst in the night before, the Doctor. At first he had seemed fairly harmless to the general, but whatever goofy first impression he had been given had worn off as soon as the news came that the Tower had been taken. Tohdoh didn't want to see the man's expression during the midnight broadcast. Something told him it would be terrifying to behold.

"Yes. Some damned colonel who thought I wasn't in control of the situation. He'll be court---" BLAM

From behind him, the tanks fired again. The first shell hit the knightmare in the shoulder, knocking it off balance, but with no severe damage owing to the sonic field. The second and third shots missed as it whirled smoothly around, the rounds detonating 3 meters behind it. It was here that Tohdoh got his first good look at the thing's face. He gave an involuntary shudder. To start with, it was hunched over, its body smooth yet angled, giving off a strange profile against the sun, a bit like those stealth bombers Britannia had recently come out with. It was an elegant, alien design, yet had originally been riot control device. The face… Was not even remotely human, and couldn't even be excused as looking like some medieval helmet. If Tohdoh had to use comparisons to something of this Earth it would be a fusion of a tiger's and a dragon's, it's segmented and quite functional jaw working, its four electric blue optics glowing brightly. And a sound was steadily growing from it as it raised its arms, power being shunted into the vibro-acoustic systems.

WheeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIEIEIIIIIIII

"GET. **DOWN**!" The Doctor shouted through the speaker system, barely audible over the whine. Any personnel that could hear him obediently threw themselves down.

FWWEEEE---_THRUUUUU__**MMMNNNNNN**_

The tanks **crumpled**. And they flew, blasted away, coming down with a crash just short of the first trench two kilometers away, exploding violently. Much of the cover for the JAF, at least in that section, was blown away also. Tohdoh opened his eyes again, and the knightmare was standing there, steaming and crackling, like some freshly summoned demon, two squads of thralls filing out to its sides like imps, apparently the passengers of the wrecked APC's. There was a keening wail as the Time Lord adjusted the speakers to address the grounds, and Tohdoh clamped down on his ears just to keep the drums from bursting. **HEAR ME ALL OF YOU. I WILL NOT TOLERATE ANY MORE OF THIS BETRAYAL. THE IDIOT WHO ORDERED THIS WILL RECEIVE MUCH WORSE THAN A BLOODY COURT-MARTIAL! HE SHALL FEEL WHAT HIS MEN HAVE FELT, WHEN I BLAST HIM OVER THE HORIZON! IT'S TIME WE STOOD TOGETHER, NOT STAB EACH OTHER IN THE BACKS. NOW, LET'S GIVE THOSE RUSSIANS A SOUND BEATING, SHALL WE?**

The JAF soldiers groaned, but then let out a yell, readying their weapons or heading off to their vehicles. **CHAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGE!**

Tohdoh and Nagisa began running to their knightmares just as the shooting, the yelling, and the engine roars of battle began. "How…" Tohdoh grinned, hopping over a shell hole. "Don't bother. This guy likely knows what he's doing if his reflexes are anything to go by. We need to get an assault squadron ready. If I'm right, then we can assist him without Nunnally being harmed, and end this within an hour."

They hopped into the Zangetsu Yojimbo and Takeda Interceptor, respectively. The powerful mech came online with a resonant thrum of the power systems. The screen glowed, the operation systems activating with the heraldry of the Rising Sun. This was soon replaced by the worried visage of Nagisa Chiba. "What if you're wrong?"

Tohdoh shuddered, and then answered. "Let me put it this way: Coordinator Nunnally will be the first to die, soon to be followed by **us**."

Already the battle had brought the intensity of modern firepower to the front. The Shadow Army had been very well prepared for this, the older knightmares in their force modified to have much stronger forward armor plating, as well as anti-armor weaponry for going against the infiltrators and the Czar Krabs. Bullets flew like solid clouds, the Tower's defense systems fully activated and put to use by the mercenaries. A trio of Krabs clambered up from their resting places, and began showering their enemies with cannon fire, launching scores of missiles at the support vehicles. The JAF's own knightmares charged out, Takeda-class interceptors up front, and Ieyasu-class heavy support frames taking up the rear. The interceptors rapidly engaged the commandeered Akatsukis, fighting them at close quarters to a standstill, and then a rout, saw-swords buzzing angrily, covered with gore and containment fluid. Then one of the Krabs _leaped_ down from the mound of debris it had been sitting on, into the fray, heavy metal shields descending over the cockpit window. Before any of the interceptors could pull back, the massive vehicle snatched up two of them in its claws, then proceeded to savagely and repeatedly slam them into the broken concrete until their engines blew. It lobbed their remains forward, then hunched down, claws clattering madly, the machine cannons whirring. The Ieyasus at the rear folded over, becoming tank like mobile artillery vehicles, hell-bore cannons aimed skyward. Then they opened fire, a cascade of shells descending on the mercs' forward line. The Krab in front tried to move back, but the motor systems weren't designed for rapid backpedaling. The explosive shower rained down around it, tearing its left claw off, destroying its missile rack, and damaging its back four legs. And yet, _it stood_. The Doctor's knightmare raised its arms, the sonic shield protecting it from most of the bullets, a steadily growing hum in the air, the clattering of debris adding to the effect of an almost supernatural force. The Krab lurched, clacking its remaining claw in what the pilot hoped was a menacing way, still resolutely firing into it. It wasn't. The Krab started to wobble, then shake violently, its knees starting to buckle and groan, sparks flying from the exposed circuits on its back. It clumsily lunged forward, claw reaching for the knightmares' cockpit, almost desperately. The thing clapped its hands to together with a teeth-rattling sub audible nonsound, and the assault vehicle was thrown backwards, its engines nearing the end of their tether, sparking, burning. With several shrieks of tortured metal, the Krab collapsed, falling apart as welding and rivets popped, the guns falling silent, cockpit shattering behind the shield with a muffled crack, thick black smoke pouring out of it. The bizarre knightmare seemed to go into a seizure, its head spasming slowly upwards, and then its jaws opened, a heart-stopping primal scream echoing across the battlefield. The Krabs backed up slightly, but didn't stop firing, flinging their missiles over at the Ieyasus. The Doctor tried to move forward, but a pair of Akatsukis raced in front of him, sawswords drawn. In a single, synchronized movement, they both swung down at him. The sonic shield was disengaged, and the knightmare raised its arms, blades sliding out to block the swords with resonant clang.

Then something unexpected happened. A shadow descended quietly behind the Akatsukis, and blazing lines were cut through their torsos. Immediately, they fell apart, bisected. The shadow behind them flickered, and the Doctor realized just who and what it was, opening a channel with a smile. "Miss Sayoko? I take it the _Hanzo_ is functioning perfectly?" The shadow flickered fully into existence for a moment, revealing a slender, sleek knightmare frame, a katana sheathed on its back, an umbrous cloak enshrouding it. Its appearance wasn't too far off from a typical fictionalized depiction of a ninja, with the exception of its armor being tailored for practicality, as opposed to flashy but otherwise useless designs. The response was equally cheery. "Indeed. I've never piloted one of these things before, but I can tell how well it works. Speaking of things working well, you haven't had any problems piloting the _Crowley_, have you, Doctor?" The knightmare ducked to avoid a hail of bullets. "For something that's spent most of its life mothballed, as a riot vehicle at that, this thing moves almost perfectly. Well, you get pretty atrocious feedback, but… Say, should I let you have a turn on the next crab?"

The Time Lord could tell the ninja maid was smiling on the other end as the stealth frame shifted back into a shadowy state. "Don't mind if I do."

The Hanzo reappeared to the side of the second krab, slicing at its legs, which sparked and clicked. The Maripov reared back, wildly swinging its claws at its lithesome opponent, letting off bursts of machine cannon fire as the shadow sliced at it methodically. When most of its forward chassis had been hacked apart, the pilot seemed to have had enough. The vehicle stomped backwards, raised its hammer-like claws together as high over its 'head' as it could manage… And then pounced forward, slamming its claws down on the debris pile, destabilizing it and most of that area, so that the Hanzo was knocked off its feet, its sword arm pinned underneath it as it fell. The Maripov turned to the side, then started 'drumming' it's pointed legs, trying to spear the Hanzo. It rolled out of the way of the spearing points, falling into a grey cistern in the rubble, the krab turning in what could almost be described as a swagger towards it's prey; it drew back it's right claw, closing it like a fist poised to strike, ready to punch through this annoying new prototype. There were a few whirrs and clicks, and then…

A stream of bullets sheared through the claw, the krab lurching backwards in bewilderment, the stealth frame below having deployed its shoulder guns to fire at almost point blank range; the krab didn't like this and started its machine cannons with a whine. "Sayonara." The ninja hissed as the armor-piercing rounds from the Hanzo's guns tore through the weakened spots of the Maripov's cockpit shield. The assault vehicle spasmed, leaked blood and smoke, then bonelessly toppled forward, the stealth frame barely escaping by rappel-spearing the upper part of its chassis and flipping over it. The metal corpse of the behemoth crashed into the cistern, half-submerged in the now filthy water.

The third Maripov started falling back, scuttling to the side, then was caught by the full force of the Ieyasus next volley, getting blown to slag as the descending shower of shells covered its retreat in a crawling detonation. "**FORWARD!**" The Time Lord roared, the Crowley letting out another shriek. Behind it, the black and red strike Sutherlands hunched down; their packs clattered into position, and then activated.

Wheeeeeeeeee----ZRRROW

The knightmares screamed forward, outstripping their Takeda counterparts easily. The comms channels began to boil over with multi-lingual swearing and taunting, as well raucous laughter from the Sutherlands themselves.

The air was filled with gauss rounds and flechettes. Knightmares from both the Shadow Army and the JAF rushed through the flames and rubble, guns blazing and power weapons humming with armor-tearing bloodthirst. Just as a team of Takedas managed to gleefully maneuver ahead of the Sutherlands in their race to the second line of trenches, the second line proved itself to be fully manned. A squad of the commandeered Akatsukis rose up, carbines loaded, launching a volley of hammer rounds at almost point-blank range. Both Takedas and Sutherlands fell into the mud, those still standing trying to engage in close-quarters combat, with mixed results. The Ieyasus had begun catching up and were unsealing their arm-mounted cannons to support their fellows. As the Crowley waded into the melee, the Doctor sighed. _I hate war..._

On the other side of the complex, Embassy Row was fairly quiet, even deserted. Then the clanking and rumbling of heavy metal doors opening disturbed the peace underground. Behind those doors, ten shapes unfolded, cyclopean white optics coming online with a hum. They flexed their strong, dexterous fingers and fully rotated their armored heads. These were assault frames, shorter than the knightmares of Britannia and the UFN, but faster and more powerful where they lacked size. These were _Gallowglass_-type frames, the premier light armor vehicles of the United Republic of Great Britain, officially tasked with protecting the British embassy in Tokyo. Now though, they were on a different sort of mission. One that none could know about if they could help it. Now, they set out to bring ruin to one, certain man. Or alien, as it were…

**Ζ**

War. Millions dead. _All for the sake of my attachments. My madness._ The Emperor of Demons thought as he looked through his binoculars at the war zone below him from the cargo bay of the Sieg Ziz Dreadnought. The baleful strains of Berlioz's **Requiem** issued from the cockpit. Dozens of soldiers from both sides were situated around the City center, pinning each other down in a stand-off. The Russians had come for her, Nunnally V. Britannia. The Coordinator would pay in blood simply for being of the Britannian Royal Family, and therefore useful as an object of frustration and hostage, even if she was competent, and had thoroughly only the most benign intentions for the citizens of the States.

The Russians couldn't care less. These were mercenaries, Пустой Человек [Hollow Men], utterly without compunction or mercy. They were men that thrived on warfare, and were well paid for their services. The soldier who enjoyed warfare was a dangerous foe, as these Siberians had proved by punching through the Tower's security like steel through cardboard. They were an unstoppable force when on the attack, very well equipped with older but still top of the line weapons and vehicles. The most fearsome of these was the Maripov T-61 Czar Krab assault vehicle, designed for amphibious attack and capable of scaling buildings with its strong, sharp claws, this metal monstrosity was _not _designed for going gently into that good night. It was designed to go screaming into the inferno of battle, rockets howling away towards their targets, and machine cannons blazing while protecting the troops disengaging from its back. _They can take enough damage and cause enough to be a problem, but I doubt they can stand up to massed firepower. The Sutherlands can take the ones on the ground, as can B1 and S1. The ones on the tower itself are the real problem._ The Emperor mused, looking at the Krabs positioned to provide AA support for the gunships. Those were another problem entirely. Magyar attack VTOLs, gunships designed for breaking apart the usually superior knightmares with their heavy missiles and harpoon grapplers. The men of the Empire in the Shadows would have a tough fight ahead of them that day.

_And this will be but the second fight of dozens, _he thought restlessly as the Dreadnought got closer and closer to the battlefield. _This will be worth it though. Nunnally will be safe again and I won't have to worry about her. Just to see her after so long…_ he breathed deeply, trying to get a hold of himself.

**Ζ**

_**Seven Hours Earlier, Tokyo University Assembly Hall**_

The broadcast finished, and a dread hush fell throughout the room, everyone watching the two unmoving figures of Lelouch and that strange man he called the Doctor. For the duration of the broadcast, from when they activated the projector to display it on the far wall to when the image faded to nothing, they had stood there, staring at that patch of wall, continuing to do so even after it shut off. They watched them for movement fearful of what would happen next. Jeremiah, Kallen, and C.C. started moving gingerly towards him, wary of the possible outburst. Sure enough, there was soon movement. Lelouch started shaking, head bowed, his fists clenched tight enough that his fingernails broke the skin of his palms, his face beginning to contort with rage as his teeth ground together; the Doctor twitched exactly once, taking the spectacles off his now quite impassive face, his eyes slightly luminous, his presence somehow giving off a tangible feeling of wrath. Kallen turned away, reactivating her headset, whispering urgently into it. "Rakshata? Have you seen the broadcast? We've got some trouble here."

"Already on our way. I've got all my equipment ready in case we need to stabilize him. Huh. The poor boy must be going spare by now." Said a brisk, serious voice.

"You have _no_ idea." Kallen hissed, turning back at the sounds of the beginnings of an apoplectic fit. Milly had started walking towards him, but stopped midway, unsure of what to say, and uncertain that being within arm's length of the incensed warlord was a wise move, looking despairingly over at him. C.C. gingerly reached out and placed her hand on the space in-between his shoulder blades, speaking as gently and soothingly as she could into his ear. "I know what you're thinking, but _please _think about the plan. We'll get Nunnally back; we have to, but there's too much chance of them having a deadman's switch if we just go charging in there after her and her alone. We need to prepare first, or you'll lose many more men pointlessly. Don't prove how irrational you are so soon after convincing these people that you're better than that."

His expression twisted into frustrated grief as he wrung his hands and then tore at his hair, all the bottled emotion coming out as a vitriolic explosion. "I… I _**can't do this!!! **_I CAN'T SIDELINE HER! I won't betray her again! I'm not having another _Tokyo_! I'm not having another **Damocles**! Please don't make me do that. I CAN'T! I **won't**. Who knows what they could be doing to her in there! They're_** animals.**_ I _KNOW_ they're animals! I allowed the damn Novgorod Rus Suppression Battalion to **EXIST **because they were animals! Vlasov and his pack of bears are alive because I didn't have them killed in Requiem! _**I**_ have to kill them, and I need to kill them NOW! Before I let her down again… AND I'M. NOT. DOING. THAT! Now all of you get out of my way and **get ready to charge that tower**!"

He whirled around, drawing his ceramic pistol, his face terrible to look upon, eyes bulging in murderous hate. And then he halted, a furrowed brow rising in surprise. Kaguya Sumeragi was standing there, arms akimbo, glaring determinedly up at him, Anya cautiously trying to tug her to the side. The Demon's lip curled into a snarl. "**Move**." He growled, left hand resting on the handle of his rapier. The girl-official huffed slightly, and then spoke. "O.K." And with that, she drew back her arm, fist clenched, and clocked the emperor right on the nose. The crowd gasped, and the thralls moved as one, the clicks of every gun in the room being leveled in the petite woman's direction studiously ignored by her. Anya seized her from behind, holding her arms still. Lelouch reeled from the punch, then lurched forward with an inarticulate hissing snarl, rapier drawn and pointed right at Kaguya's face, Kallen and Jeremiah trying desperately to hold him back, but the blade inched slowly towards her throat, all reason gone from his burning eyes. Kaguya didn't even flinch, maintaining that same withering glare, then spoke, an eyebrow raised skeptically and contemptuously. "Would you really do this? Would you seriously strike and kill_ me_? If you kill me here, then your attempt to return is going to be broken, no matter what. You won't just be letting me down; you'll be letting all of us down. You'll be failing yourself. Remember that great PLAN of yours, the one you keep stressing WE failed to maintain without prior instruction? The one you're willing to launch another world war as a recovery measure for it? If you carry on, kill me, launch this suicidal run on the Tower now, your ability to rectify that plan, and possibly the plan itself, will be ended. Things will be **worse** than before your plan was put into action. My hold on the Defense Council will be gone, and there will be NO unity as national preferences let them pick whatever targets they want. Europe will break loose and become its own faction, most likely siding with Saxon. Empress Cornelia will re-engage the Britannian war machine to take back all those territories you gave away… If nothing else, then your gentle world will NEVER even have a hope at coming to be. Now settle back down, _your highness._"

Lelouch froze, the blade quivering inches away from Kaguya's neck, her gaze fixed unerringly on his. There was a choking noise from his throat, and, slumping a little, left eye twitching, he let the rapier fall to the ground with a clatter, the ceramic pistol dropping back into its holster. It was just as well that he did, as the Doctor had been creeping up behind him, sonic screwdriver in hand, oddly extended, four little panels of metal splayed out from the tip. Apparently he had been aiming for a discolored spot at the base of his skull. He stopped, quickly withdrawing the device to one of his numerous pockets, all in complete silence. The overlord hunched over, his expression going blank before changing to that of delayed mortified realization, going pale. "What… hahhh... Why? Nehh… What the hell have I been doing?! Plan. Plan. You're right. Damn mirror again… Lemme think… Thralls, at ease; Anya, release her."

Kaguya gave a satisfied smirk, then looked to the Doctor, who suddenly seemed like he was trying to be inconspicuous while Lelouch wandered off. "What were you trying to do back there? Is that rod you were holding a medical tool or a weapon?" The Doctor jumped (not very convincingly), then indicated the thing. "Oh. Yes this is definitely a tool, never really liked carrying guns around, or any weapon, for that matter. It's called a sonic screwdriver, and I've tinkered with it enough that it has more uses than a Templorise war knife. I can use it to sabotage equipment or check bio-rhythms just as easily." He beckoned her to come closer and listen. "I was going to see just how extensive his implants were… and if need be, save your life. It looked like that bunch couldn't have held him for much longer." There was a rustle, and Milly was behind Kaguya, looking on with an inscrutable expression. "Would messing with whatever's in his body have killed him? When did he get those implants? I knew Lelouch, and he couldn't have wrestled a bunny, let alone GI Jane and a cyborg."

The Time Lord shook his head, hand waving as if swatting a fly. "Naaaahhhhh. Would have been a bit painful though, and he would have seized up like a thoroughly rusted engine. Although I haven't been able to get a closer look really, it seems like the guy's wired up pretty well. I'll have to give her credit, Rakshata's good. She must've worked on him over the years, and had to do it very carefully, what with his little regenerative ability. But I'll want to see just what they're for, exactly. There was a power surge right when he lunged, then it all shut down after you talked him down. For a split-second though, the power seemed to just go wild. Part of it didn't seem like it was meant go that far, but..."

YAARGH…

The warlord was on his knees, tearing at his hair once more. "I can't do this! My focus keeps going back to her. It'll never work! I can't work in this state, with **that **condition!"

The doors flew open again, and a stern-looking woman with coffee toned skin and blonde hair like down trotted in, a medical kit in hand. In her wake walked the lithe and graceful figure of a maid, who looked at her former charge with concern. Jeremiah and Kallen walked over to them, Anya holding the disconsolate warlord still. Most of the crowd that hadn't rushed off to the war-zone (those having done so being the ones in the JAF) had filed out onto the floor, forming a vague circle around their former leader, looking at one another worriedly. Rakshata put down her kit, and started readying a syringe. "So how bad is he?" She asked.

"By the look of things, he's either nearing a complete nervous breakdown, or it's already happening. He can't focus on his plan, and that's what's driving him crazy." Jeremiah answered, glance shifting to the equipment. "So what can you do?"

The scientist sucked a thick grey substance into the needle, and then held it up with a grim smile. "Something likely very cruel, but very necessary." She said matter-of-factly. She walked over to Lelouch, who shivered a little, then looked up at her apprehensively, then spoke. "**No.**" The word had a surprising mix of venom and fear to it. Rakshata sighed. "You know you need this, V. You don't want to let anyone down, do you? Now hold still…" Immediately he started struggling out of the way; the scientist made a gesture, and Jeremiah seized him, holding him still. "NO! You're not doing that to me! DAMN IT, NO! There has to be---"

THUNK

Rakshata pressed down on the syringe, injecting the substance into the hegemon's neck, who had started swearing bodily harm to all participants in rather brutal ways before falling limply forwards into a slump. She removed the syringe, then hugged him tightly, whispering soothingly into his ear. The Doctor raised an eyebrow, then meandered over to Jeremiah. "So, what was that stuff, some kind of sedative? If so, why did he react so violently to it?" The cyborg shrugged, then reached over his liege to tap Rakshata on the shoulder, then pointed his thumb at the Doctor. She looked up, eyes slightly watery. "You want to know what this was. Doctor, are you familiar with the symptoms of Attention Deficit Disorder?" The Time Lord snorted, then cleared his throat, forcing his face to straighten. "Errr, yeah, you could say that. What about it?" The scientist bit her lip, and then spoke. "Well, let's just say that this stuff does the opposite of what Methamphetamine does for a person with those symptoms. Orrr… hm. Maybe you could describe it as an anti-cure."

"So judging by how it doesn't seem like you've tested this on him before, what's going to happen to him?" C.C. cut in, looking very annoyed.

"Well…"

"What's going to happen is I'll suffocate before this stuff fully takes effect _if you don't get off me_." Hissed a muffled voice. Rakshata let go, then helped the man to his feet. He looked somewhat dazed, almost lop-sided, his eyes blinking rapidly as if fending off sleep. The slightly queasy frown gave him an almost comical look. He seemed steady on his feet however, and he shrugged off any support from behind. His left eye twitched. "That… does not feel good. Why do I feel calmer, though? Nnngh. I think I can focus now. On more than one thing, that is. If I don't pass out…Mrrrfffff..." He shook his head like a dog shaking off water, waving off any help. He scrunched his face in an expression of pained concentration. There was a barely audible chirp, a small twinge of his limbs, and he opened his eyes to gaze sternly around him. "In case most of you are having severe doubts as to my sanity, know that for the moment, I am fairly sound of mind. Now, we need to prepare." He announced, tone mildly irritable, pacing alarmingly fast. CLICK. He turned on his heel to look at Rakshata. "Are the knightmares on their way? I also need Alpha, Gamma, and Theta companies to mount up." CLICK. He swiveled back around to Jeremiah before the scientist/medic could get a word in. "Orange, Anya, ready the Sieg Ziz, and make sure to load up four specialist models. You know which ones I'm talking about. Make certain the one that needs to be requisitioned is indeed taken."

"But…" CLICK. This time he turned to regard the thrall officers. "Bring Beta to full combat readiness for a ground assault, and put the whole company at its required position for Situation Granada. This goes the same for any of the other units you meet on the way." "You planned ahead for THIS?! What kind of…" Tamaki attempted to protest but was silenced by…

CLICK. The warlord gave him a condescending look, pointing at his own face. "Who am I? Your old boss, remember? I had to make battle plans for something like this because that Tower is the biggest, most valuable, and most visible target in the entirety of Japan, forget Tokyo. Oh by the way, orders for the Black Knights in this room: You are now under the direct command of Beta Captain Tregessor. Your objections at this point are of negligible importance to me. Ohgi, Madame President, you are to do your jobs as you normally would, except that under no circumstances can my sister the Empress be involved in this matter, nor any of Britannia's forces. Any further questions? No? Good." CLICK. He turned to the Doctor, C.C., and Kallen who were alternately wearing expressions of annoyance or worry (or both). "You three need to get ready. C.C., Kallen, you're going with me into the Sieg Ziz. Get ready for close-quarters fighting. Doctor…"

"Slow. Down." The Time Lord said, grasping Lelouch around the shoulders. Before he could interrupt, he continued, tonelessly. "What is the plan? How are we going to deal with those… giant metal crabs?" the alien's face twitched with those last two words, and he made a sound that seemed to be an attempt at holding back a groan. "I can't believe I just karking said that. Giant metal crabs. Are we really going to have to deal with mechanical crustaceans?"

Lelouch winced. "Yesssss… ridiculous isn't it?" he said resignedly. The Doctor response was somewhat unnerving: a gleeful cackle with broad, manic smile. "Heeheeheeheeheee. I REALLY want to take one of those things apart and then put it back together! I wanna drive one!" Everyone edged slowly away from the tinker-happy Time Lord; Lelouch raised an eyebrow then spoke in a monotone. "I'm certain I can accommodate you in that regard. Unless you want to be torn to shreds however, you're going to need a new knightmare. So come on, gearhead boy, let's see the new toys outside." They were about to start leaving the hall, when…

LELOUCH VON BRITANNIA NEE LAMPEROUGE, YOU ARE GETTING YOUR ARSE BACK HERE _RIGHT NOW_!!!

**Ζ**

Nunnally.

For seven years, she had been his anchor, to both his will to live, and to his sanity in the face of the growing hate and loathing he felt for his father and his vast empire. His mother had died and his sister had been crippled apparently because of Emperor Charles' negligence, and for confronting his father he and his sibling were banished, not even idle tears being shed for their sake. One day near the end of those seven years, events arranged themselves so that he made a pact with the unnatural that would make Faust himself cringe away. He had met, in the heat of an encounter with the resistance, a Witch; in return for granting the Demoness' dearest wish, he was given the Geass, the power to dominate the wills of others with a mere glance and a spoken word. And the first time he had used it, the madness took him, and he had smiled as the blood of his pursuers had sprinkled his face.

He shuddered as a part of his mind which he would rather not have, an entity which belonged more to the Dante-esque Inferno and its Nine Circles, relished this memory with a sickening chuckle. The other sides of his personality shushed the monster, placating it with the knowledge that soon it would get its chance to spill blood once more. As for Lelouch, he comforted himself with the knowledge that his sister was going to be within his arms again. He only feared that she would be repulsed by what lengths her brother would go to, and possibly by his appearance. The sound of combat reached his ears from far below. The Doctor and Sayoko had broken through the military blockade around the tower with their specialized weaponry, and would begin storming the base alongside the squadrons of Sutherlands and APC's. They would take care of the ground forces, and any of the enemy's collaborators. For there were many; how else could the Siberians have broken into Tokyo and attacked the Tower but by treachery to aid the brute force?

The overlord felt a gloved hand on his shoulder, and glanced back to see the face of the Witch, for once concerned. She spoke in that soft, modulated tone that had over time become soothing to his ears. "It's bothering you again, isn't it? I _thought_ I heard laughter coming from in there." The man sighed, looking out the hatch window, eyes glazed. "Yes. I'm at the battlefield; it's only natural it'd become more active. Still, I can only pray that it'll quiet down when I… when I see her. Please let me show my face when we free her…" He trailed off, shuddering again. The Witch wrapped her arms around him comfortingly. "My contract with you doesn't specify that I give you orders. And even if it did, I wouldn't be so cruel as to deny you that. I know how you DID conquer the world for her. In regards to that little monster at the back of your psyche, perhaps being the conquering hero for a day will help quench its thirst." Again the Prince of Madness breathed deeply, and then activated his mask, encasing his head within the titanium and ceramic helmet. Very quietly, almost inaudibly against the howl of the wind and the thuds of bullets, he said, "_Thank you, Caecilia_." He then turned to Kallen, hair pulled back into a ponytail, dressed in a red and black combat jacket, complete with a shrapnel skirt, a long and powerful-looking telescoped assault rifle attached to her hip. "Is Squad Alpha 18 ready?" he softened his tone almost imperceptibly for his next words. "More importantly, are _you_ ready, Q1?" She gave a confident smile before answering. "Of course I am. I'm always ready to go into battle with you. It feels… good to go back to war. It's sure as hell not boring serving with you. As for the Eighteens…" she gestured behind her at the squad, whose red-tinted eyes glimmered back at her. They could both swear that the troopers had those eerie grins underneath the ceramic blast-masks. As one they chanted. "**The enemy has lived long enough to know the Beauty of Life. Today we make them see the luster of Death. We shall descend upon them as a Swarm of Demons. We shall grind them, dust unto dust. They who have violated His designs, they who would break His gift to mankind, deserve no mercy. As Hounds to the Empire we will obey; For the Emperor in the Shadows, this deed will be done. Death to Saxon.**"

Kallen nodded. "Yeah, I think they're ready."

The Emperor smiled beneath his mask, and then turned to the cockpit. "Orange, find us a drop point near where Zero is imprisoned. We'll need him as a rallying point for the Black Knights, even if my soldiers don't need him. Now ordering squad 30: launch a volley at the mid-range contacts. We'll need to cut the support for those gunships. Aerolancers, keep the Magyars off us while we disembark." All the troops uttered an affirmative, and then dove to their tasks. DAKKADAKAKAKDKAKDKKK

Anti-armor rounds slammed into the dreadnought, but it would be of little help to the men firing them.

CLANK! SPANG! SPRONG!

High-velocity rounds were now slamming into the hull from below in the grid, beginning to dent it. "Orange! NOW! Shamrock pattern! B1, what the hell are you doing down there?! Get those things off our backs!"

The voice of the Time Lord answered back, nettled. "I'm trying to keep them from collapsing this tower, and those traitor units are NOT helping. Just do what you need to do."

"Then do it already! I don't have time for this!" Lelouch snarled, seizing his rappel line.

SSSSRRRRIIIISSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH*CHANKKRKRKRKLLLL*

The behemoth drew back its mighty claws, and then with its large slash harpoons, smote the surface of the Tower scaffolding, the men who had been foolish enough to attack from there falling to their deaths. The troopers readied their rappel lines, and then descended through the hole into the maelstrom. Lelouch hissed down the line, rapier and ceramic pistol drawn, cracking off shot after shot at the invaders. Bursts of automatic fire tore through him, which caused him terrible pain, but...

It was almost worth the pain to see his enemies' faces go from triumphant smirks to grimaces of outright horror and dismay at seeing the wounds they inflicted heal supernaturally fast. In quick succession, he shot an entire fire team of the terrified Siberians (with only a split-second pause to aim) in the heads. The thralls were just as effective, pouring out a torrent of automatic antipersonnel fire while the armor (kevlar and aramid fiber weave) absorbed most of the damage. A dozen more mercs charged up the corridor at them, their Kalashnikovs chattering for blood. A couple of thralls fell with muffled groans. The Witch and Emperor, as supernaturally endowed as they were, couldn't keep this up much longer. Then Kallen descended with a scowl. She unpacked her weapon to its full size, and then gave them hell. "You do NOT fill my Emperor with lead, ya damn cannon fodder!" The bark of the assault rifle punctuated her shout. The mercs began to fall back, losing half their squad in seconds. The warlord however, was reluctant to let them go. He disengaged the mask panels around his eyes, and then spoke in a ringing voice. "All of you, I command you to **die**!" In broken English, they responded, deranged smiles on their faces, "Yus yeur Highness!" They then turned their guns on each other and pulled the triggers. Blood spattered the walls.

Somewhere within him, a demon exulted in the carnage, driving the deranged euphoria in his mind to the forefront. A malevolent rasp of laughter escaped his helm. "Never gets old..." he muttered, beginning to move towards the cell block. "K1, you need to get to the prison block quickly. There's a big contact heading for your position. One of those damn Krabs. I'll try to hold him, but you need to hurry." Rumbled the bass tone of Jeremiah. They all became aware of a rumbling thud that was the harbinger for the massive ferrous crustacean.

The emperor smiled under his mask. "Then let's get this over with, shall we?"

_Before I completely lose my mind..._

**Ζ**

Suzaku Kururugi was truly having a _miserable_ day. After that whole disaster below on the Tower Concourse, he had failed, once again, to protect his charge, who was going to be subjected to whatever horrors the Siberians could imagine doing to her. He had been knocked unconscious, and then was literally chained down in the detention level, in the highest security cell. He had then awakened to solitude and pain, with a cracked jaw and a nasty twinge in his spine, his mask loosely placed on top of his head. He had realized his failure after looking upon his monochrome surroundings, and had wept, in absolute despair. _So this is how your plan ends, Lelouch. Haaahhhhh... Your little punishment for me wasn't so bad, really. I didn't have to pull off any genius tricks for a while, and I was only a figurehead or a glorified bodyguard, thanks to how little the senior Black Knights respected me. It figures that the time where I have to really do something, I fail. But then again, you didn't prepare me for things like this! You didn't prepare me for Saxon or these damn Siberians! You didn't have Vlasov or his pet thrill-killers eliminated in the fall-out of Requiem! _

His anger had replaced his misery, rapidly mutating into spite and loathing. _You set me up to fail, didn't you?! I thought being forced into this mask was the punishment, but no. This is your revenge, that which has always driven you, even above your own sister! And here I thought you were heartbroken after that last fight with Nunnally. You wanted to hurt me, from beyond the grave. You wanted me to kill you not only for your own death wish, but so that whole plan we spent all that time on would collapse, and that you would be laughing at me from Hell! Because of you, Nunnally will die, and Schniezel will be set loose on Earth again!_

Suddenly, all those thoughts of hate were interrupted by the chatter of gunfire and the slicing of blades, punctuated by the screams and panicked shouts of the mercenaries. Then there was silence, and the clunking of jackboots. It was here that he had to wonder who this help was. He could have sworn he heard a giggle before the door was opened, and the most unexpected sight in the universe greeted him: C.C.'s smirking, viridian haired self, peeking through the cell door. "Could you make your mental ranting any louder, 'Zerozaku'?"

Suzaku simply stared at her, mouth hanging open under the mask. Again, she was unchanged, wearing one of her customary elaborate and sensuous white outfits, which at the moment was drenched in blood, several bullet holes clearly in evidence.

Another giggle from the Witch, and she stepped into the cell, allowing two more people in.

The first was Kallen Kouzuki, scowling at him, giving a withering glare. In spite of himself, he did feel a pang of guilt at the memory, three years ago, when, after making that grand speech to the world about the punishment of Lelouch, he had released the prisoners, walking up to Kallen as her bonds were cut, her expression hateful. Before he could say a word, she had leapt at him, knocking him to the ground. And, crushing the life out of him, she had screamed in his face, cursing him to damnation for not stopping Lelouch, for forcing his hand, for stopping her. The tears streaming down her face contrasted with the absolute fury of her expression. He had been seconds away from suffocation when the Black Knights had yanked her off of him, not able to avoid the spittle launched at his faceplate. He had to court-martial her for that, but refused to do more, as causing her further misery would be too cruel. Ever after that, the seniors ignored him, save for ceremonies and emergencies. And back then, he knew he deserved it…

The second was an oddity, a sheer enigma. A tall, almost skeletally thin man in a black and red Zero-mirror costume, helmeted and bearing the iconography of the Daemon King. Something about this figure put Suzaku ill at ease, a presence of familiarity, and a seething aura of vindictive smugness. This figure was covered in blood also, several sections of his cloak ripped and shredded by bullets, the shirt torn. He spoke in a dry, older voice, with an accent that could have been from any number of places from throughout the Britannian Empire or its former holdings. "So, this is the great Zero, or rather the new, fledgling one. Trust me, I know of the plan. You could say I'm the back-up plan for if one of you gits screwed up. I'm getting you out of here, because the greens will listen to you. Also, the knight wants to save his princess from the bears, right? Anyway, are you ready? We've got plenty of weaponry, so long as you don't lose it again… or fry that helmet."

That whole time, a small, vibrating knife had been twirling through his fingers, dancing lightly over the chain-links holding Suzaku still, then stabbing the weakened portions to break them. Even as the last link broke, the 2nd Zero was lost for words, just making sure not to fall to the ground and make the mask fall off. The figure looked him over, sighed, and then reached for the mask. As an automatic reaction, he flinched backward. The Revenant put his hand out expectantly, the dry voice issuing forth from the mask again. "Relax already. We all know who's under that tulip. Hand me it, and I'll set it to manual lock." Suzaku reluctantly did so, eyes focused directly on that strange, angular mask as its owner tinkered with the Zero helmet. He could feel Kallen's gaze boring into the side of his head. "You know, I doubt that the original Zero would have let this happen to him. You're a lot clumsier than I would've thought." He said in a tone that would have sounded conversational if it weren't for that acid bite to it. "At least I stick to what I'm supposed to be doing, not leaving my men to die. Not by choice--" Abruptly the Revenant slammed the helmet down on Suzaku's head, a faint snarl emanating from his own, his companions moving slightly closer to him, looking as if they were readying to restrain the irate enigma. "There, tulip's back on. Let's see you take it off now… Nice and tight? Good. Now let's get moving. I have an appointment to keep with a rather insane bear, and you had better hold your own on the way up there, sub. Here's your sword. Don't lose it again." They went out into the detention block, the squad of thralls freeing the imprisoned (save for those they were forced to knock out cold, regular convicts), who gawped at these strange, silent soldiers as they pressed discarded guns into their hands, directing them to the detention gate, where the Revenant walked up, then turned around to address them, in that same bone-dry voice. "You have been brought out here to assist us. Specifically, you're going to help us throw those Siberian drunks out of this tower, and rescue Coordinator Nunnally. I require your assistance simply because I need more firepower, accuracy optional. Any questions? No? Good." Right as he turned on his heel to walk up the stairs, one of the troopers loudly called after him. "Why should we take your path up to there? You're a Revenant, and so are your men. Why in Hell should we listen to a bunch of psychopaths in denial, even if you did save us?!"

The figure stood there, absolutely still, then whirled around, seizing the man by the throat and slamming him into the door of a cell, rapier drawn, pointed towards any who would attempt to intervene. Suzaku looked on in anger as the Revenant hissed into the soldier's ear, the man's face going ashen. He pulled away and murmured what he had been told to the rest of the men, who blanched also. He heard Kallen sigh with a mutter. "I just hope he doesn't have to do that…" Suzaku decided not to ask what they had been threatened with, and started following the stranger, resolving to find out by the end of this to find out who he was. By force if necessary.

The distant blasts of rocket fire, as well as the myriad sounds of mechanized combat reached up to the battered hallway the group was walking through, the sounds echoing off the walls as plaster sporadically fell. So far they hadn't met any opposition at all, the clunking of the unseen Czar Krab rapidly putting the grunts ill at ease. Suzaku simply wanted the thing to attack so that they could get it over with. Whatever was on the thralls' minds, they weren't telling, and asking the lead Revenant and the two women would be equally pointless. Nonetheless…

"Okay, 'Boss', what's the plan? I'm sure it involves you and your men getting out of here alive, but what's going to happen now?"

The cloaked man didn't stop walking, but answered. "Save your Princess, then put the Russians out for the crows to feed on. We kill every one of these traitor bastards. Not one leaves this tower alive."

Suzaku nodded. "Yes. All those moles must be taken care of--"

"No you fool, I meant Vlasov's little pack! Damn swine. Each and every one of them was a soldier in the Suppression Battalions, working for the master. When you got through with Him, they were swamped by rioting on a massive scale. Hundreds of them died in the chaos. But there were plenty that kept on living, fighting. They didn't serve the cause of the master though. They fought little wars, little skirmishes, for _money_, for **sport**. This, I do not like. Their deaths are LONG overdue." He paused, and then continued, almost adding as an after-thought, "Of course, we'll also deal with those defectors in the security. They'll just get in the way if they're allowed to live, you know."

'Zero' suppressed a groan (and the desire to bang his head against the wall) and took a moment to examine his blade. Whatever blood and viscera that had been on the sword previously had been wiped clean from it; it had been replaced somewhat by a strange series of grooves and scratches into the steel, as if something had reamed very closely and sharply across it. He looked over at the cloaked man, finger pointing accusingly at the blade. The only response he got was a sinister chuckle and a crackle from the hand not holding the rapier. A rather artificial-sounding crackle. He noticed Kallen looked slightly nauseated. _A prosthesis? A combat-orientated prosthetic hand? No. I could hear real bone and tissue there too. Implanted servos and blades?_ He shivered involuntarily, feeling more uneasy than ever. He knew that 'Revenants' as they were called in that day and age were actually not often the bloodthirsty psychopaths the world thought they were. There were quite a few who simply had the misfortune of having served in His forces or thought the way Lelouch ran things was the right way. Admittedly though, there were just as many who simply used it as an excuse for violence and upheaval, or sought to make an agenda of the old cause, such as the Omnis Mos group, who were essentially fascists; others acted like vigilantes, 'dispensing the Emperor's justice' where they lived. There were also rumors (which the Black Knights tried to quiet and keep for themselves) of red-eyed supersoldiers, still bound thralls of the late Emperor, who roamed about the globe on mysterious errands. _ I suppose the rumors are true after all. Jeremiah didn't deGeass them. But it doesn't make sense. How can they function like this, take command of their own will? They're thralls alright, and I don't think thralls can see the cause of a dead man as their driving force; it's abstract, not a direct command or an order. So who the hell is this leader of theirs, and where did they get the funding to augment him like this? Or did Lelouch give C.C. charge of them while I was out of contact? He told me she once had unofficial command of the Black Knights for a year, but considering they didn't do much beyond regrouping for that year… Damn, that doesn't make much sense either! _A truly horrifying thought struck him. _What if she has control of the thralls, and started giving out Geass contracts to some of them? What if this guy has the same abilities as she does?! _

Whatever other possibilities that could have followed through into thought were interrupted by the sudden awareness of movement in corridor in front of him. The others tensed up slightly as well, with a brief delay from C.C., and Suzaku was mildly impressed by how hard to spot that tiny movement was. Most soldiers wouldn't bother with minimizing something so instinctual. The sound of the Maripov's spearing steps continued, then surprisingly sped up, going past the motley platoon.

Ahead about 20 meters were about eighteen figures, all armed, four of which had different postures from the rest; there had been some debris throughout this corridor, some of it piled up to form makeshift barricades; many of these they had found deserted, even half-finished, as they had walked up to this point. The cloaked man inclined his head slightly, his arms blending into the blackness of the fabric while the blade glinted. C.C. moved over to his side, hands resting on her thighs, below the two sheathed long knives and small pistol; Kallen moved slightly to the side(behind the cloaked man), a look of slight disappointment on her face, hand resting behind her back, just over the telescoped assault rifle. Since no instructions had been given to him (nor any kind of ranged weapon), Suzaku decided to make his move when the shooting started.

Which it did the second he thought that.

The thralls opened fire first, the Russians in the front falling with cries of pain and surprise. Their comrades returned fire two seconds after it began, the murderous chatter of their Kalashnikovs filling the air. Suzaku picked a target… And the icy flow went through his veins as he vaulted over to the wall, struck it, then pushed off towards the target. He was dimly aware of the bark of the assault rifle, the screamed orders in multiple languages, and the dull thud from further afield. Every movement, from the spasmodic death throes of the mercs to the racing of the bullets, he saw and noted as if they were in slow-motion, as if time had suddenly taken on the consistency of molasses. _Find a target. Pick a target. Eliminate the target. Move to the next._

The mercenary stared up at him, still firing away at the thralls, mouth opening for a shout…

The katana sliced through his neck, the gun continuing to fire as the dead man's fingers locked around the trigger. Blood jetted up at him, drenching his costume, as he kicked the still-standing body to the floor.

**SSSSsssssttt**

A bayonet sheared through the air, right at the side of his helmet. Zero inclined his head at just the right instant, and the blade whooshed past him to slam quivering into the corridor wall. He dropped to one knee to dodge a line of machine gun fire, and then tore to the side, slicing with his katana at the source of the noise, facing the oncoming revenants all the while; he was rewarded with another pained shout, and stabbed at its source, running the man through. There was a gurgle, and he swept the sword back to ready position.

The mercenaries began fleeing, either in blind panic, limping, or aiming suppressive fire back at the intruders. A bark from the assault rifle signaled the final change from any coherent falling back to a complete rout, an infiltrator falling to floor, his face and chest a bloody mess.

Suzaku suddenly realized he had been holding his breath, and finally exhaled, looking around him. Seven of the enemy had been killed, and roughly half of the remainder had been wounded, judging by the stains. None of the thralls had been severely wounded, but four of the security guards wouldn't be getting up again. There were several wounded as well, but from the look of things, they were going to be left in that hallway to wait it out. C.C. had sat down on a piece of barricade, munching on what looked suspiciously like it contained cheese and tomato. Kallen leaned against the left-hand wall, reloading the assault rifle casually, checking for any dust. What caught his attention though was what the cloaked man was doing. He seemed to be searching the bodies of the mercenaries and infiltrators for something, or perhaps someone, then gave up, patting himself down. "Did we do too well killing this bunch?" Kallen asked half-jokingly. The man puffed out irritably. "In a word, yes. Not necessarily a bad thing, mind, but it would have been nice for there to be someone for me to wring some info out of. Ah, doesn't matter. I already know who the traitor's boss is. Saxon. No matter. They'll all be dead by the end of the day, I swear it. Alright, let's move out. We have to reach Vlasov before he can enact whatever deadman measures he has." He turned to the regular troopers, who looked a bit antsy. "Just to let you know, I have kill-teams coming in soon. Leave the wounded where they fall. They will be helped later. Be prepared for if and when we have to deal with one of those damned Krabs. That includes you, _Hero_. Pick-up a Kalashnikov already. You're embarrassing me with your antics."

The regulars immediately got riled up. "Hey! Lay off Zero! He did TWICE what you did in that skirmish. And he's ZERO! What the hell are you?! A Revenant! Who are you for us to be bossed around by?!"

"Hahhhh... Are we suffering from shell-shock or have you forgotten what I said I'd do to you shits?! Huh?!" the man snarled, the thralls forming up and leveling rifles. The regulars responded by leveling their own guns. The leader (or at least the most outspoken one) turned to Suzaku. "It's your call, Zero. Should we get rid of this scum?" The false founder sighed. "No. We shouldn't have any issues between our groups. Insults don't matter, lives do. Right now, we have a common goal. That is the only thing that matters. And frankly, I don't have time for this. Coordinator Nunnally doesn't have time for this. Do you understand me, knights? We are here to bring justice to the filth who invaded this tower, not these revenants who have come to our aid. So come on. Let's get this extermination over with. Move out!"

And so they did, still giving the Revenants smoldering glares and muttered oaths as they did so. Suzaku huffed, and then marched on, mostly ignoring the frustrated mutters from around the thrall leader and Kallen.

**Ζ**

Several skirmishes and bellowings later, and they had arrived at the hurriedly patched doors to the 'throne room'. Two of the thralls had been knocked down, one dead and riddled with bullets, the other wounded and having volunteered to help guard the other fallen. The regulars weren't nearly so lucky. What had started out as a mob of fifty security troopers had dwindled down to twenty-eight, five of whom were wounded who had refused to stay down.

The lead revenant turned around. "Well, we're here. So, you think Vlasov is in there? Silly question, of course he is. And by the look of things, we can't do much besides charging in and hoping for the best. Are you all sure you're ready? Your survival is not guaranteed..."

"With respect, Lord Zero, can we make this blowhard eat his words? We're getting REAL tired of this shit." the security sergeant growled, cocking his rifle; murmurs of agreement came from the others as they readied themselves. "Granted, with pleasure. Let's get this over with." Zero hissed, ramming a fresh clip into the Kalashnikov, and then resting that hand on the handle of his katana. The thralls positioned themselves on the sides of the doors, crouched and ready to move. The leader motioned for Kallen to move to the center of the security group, disappointment once again on her face, rifle deployed; C.C. moved to his side, and though Suzaku couldn't quite see past the leader's cape, he thought he saw her grab his hand softly. A gentle whisper, almost inaudible. "I'll try and make this as quick as I can, I swear. I know that you dislike being the shield as much as I do." The Witch nodded, and then whipped out the pistols she had holstered. They were standing directly in front of the doors. And something about how they held themselves, the intimate postures, looked eerily familiar...

([Switching to Third -person from "the leader's" point of view, with some from Vlasov])

"**Now**." The leader hissed, and he kicked the doors open. The room was a mess of rubble, barricades and equipment. It was filled with the Hollow Men, all ready. Coordinator Nunnally was on the dais to the back of the room, motorized wheelchair tied down with rope to weights on the floor; She was bound to her chair the same as she was during the broadcast seven hours ago, still not gagged, still terrified. And directly in front of her stood the man who had taunted the powers of the world without abandon, in the old uniform of the Novgorod Rus Battalions, Major Antonin Vlasov. He was grinning like a wolf on scent of prey, eyes aglow with gleeful spite. "Welcome back, Terrible One. It's been far too long. Now be a good bastard and die." And the guns of the mercenaries spoke, the chattering like a cackling horde of mechanical demons. The first move for the revenants was to dive into a rolling lunge, and return fire, three regulars already going down ripped to shreds. Five Siberians went down in that instant, dead hands pulling live triggers to spray more lead into the ceiling. "Come on Ivan, you know how futile this is! Just go on and die like the rest of us mortals do!" Vlasov laughed, grabbing his rifle and firing it one-handed while enthusiastically whirling his bayonet in the air, Nunnally clamping her eyes shut, looking profoundly sick.

**KRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKKKKKkRRKkrKTHOOM**

The leader didn't dare look behind him, but knew the Maripov had blasted through the hallway ceiling, and judging by the cut-off screams, it had crushed a couple of regulars with its claws upon landing. "KALLEN! ZERO! DEAL WITH THAT MONSTER! C.C., EIGHTEENS, AND ANY OF YOU GUARDS UP FRONT, WE KILL THE BEAR!" Another Russian went down with a crack from the pistol, the leader reloading with armored clips hidden in his sleeve while rapidly unsheathing the rapier. Bullets slammed into him from the front and from the sides, tearing through what was left of his body armor, which while painful, mattered nothing. He leapt onto the barricade, knocking a bayoneted rifle downward with the flat side of the rapier, shooting another mercenary who had begun to aim at his head, then decapitating the rifleman with the blade. To his sides, the thralls and C.C. were doing the same, closing in to fight with alternating gun and detached bayonet strikes(C.C. having abandoned her pistol for a pair of long knives), while the regulars attempted to give covering fire(some diving behind the rubble dislodged by the Maripov's arrival).

Vlasov's grin widened, as he lowered the bayonet to a dueling stance. "So Ivan, you want to die with some style? Fine then. Obliging you will be a pleasure!" He lunged, whipping the kalashnikov upwards to fire. The leader swerved to the left, the bullets instead downing one of the regulars. He dove at the Russian with a sweep of the rapier, which the barrel-chested man dodged out of the way of with surprising grace, flipping and slicing down with the gathered force of the turn. The revenant jinked backward, feinted twice with the blade, and then snapped up his pistol for an unaimed shot at his chest. Vlasov thrust up the Kalashnikov in front of him at an angle, deflecting the bullet so it ricocheted away with some sparks. He peeked over the gun with that same grin. "Too easy, Ivan. You're not nearly as good a shot as the reports say." He stabbed with the bayonet, narrowly missing the side of the revenant's head. The man retorted with a slice that cut off some of Vlasov's stripes. "I'm guessing you think you know who's under this thing...And you're _very wrong. _Our master is dead thanks to Zero back there, you know that. And you've done VERY wrong in the wake of his death." The mercenary blocked the cut with the gun while 'Ivan' blocked the bayonet with his gauntlet. "Done wrong, have I? Well then, bastard, why haven't you killed that liar behind you? Oh that's right, he's still your henchman mixed with catamite, isn't he?! HA! Drop the masquerade and fight me like a proper Czar!" Vlasov snarled. 'Ivan' slammed down on the gun with the rapier while kicking out at the Major's midriff. He began speaking quietly as the mercenary stumbled back, ducking the volley of machine-gun fire. "So what if I _am_ 'Ivan'? You were the terrible ones. You were the ones who betrayed Russia's still-beating heart, the crows who decided they craved live meat instead of scavenging. I called for the nations to **kneel **before my sovereignty. Many indeed did surrender to my display, but there were quite a few who hung on in defiance, those who had re-established their militaries quickly... Or already had them." Vlasov lunged at him, wildly hacking with his bayonet. "Oh daaa, it was boring stuff, those days fighting guerilla style. Then you put out that little announcement of the 'Suppression Battalions'. Me and the boys got _such_ an idea... Hehheheheh..." The emperor parried a couple jabs, and then struck out with his gauntlet at the other's face. "So you and your men, shortly after the announcement of the Russian military's cell-based structure, _fragged_ the entire high command while they were still in one place. And then murdered or co-opted an entire division staying in St. Petersburg that same night. Then you personally came and announced the creation of the Novgorod Rus Suppression Battalions. To my face, after killing the resistance my men were facing from the rear. Yes, you're a real piece of work, Vlasov. How did you survive?" The Russian dodged the punch, then planted his right boot on the hegemon's chest, eyes glimmering in bloodthirsty nostalgia. "Simple answer? Massed firepower." He kicked out, at the same time raking the other's gun arm with the kalashnikov.

The mercenary stalked toward his prey, lovingly reloading the gun while his face shifted into a disgusted scowl. "When you had your little public "assassination", the whole world went mad. Everywhere, there was a massed civil revolt against the battalions. Like the Bastille on a global scale. Millions of people, taking anything they could use as a weapon, all charging at us. The Second in St. Petersburg was wiped out in half an hour because the damn civvies and vets grabbed tanks and other explosive hardware. We managed to get the Maripovs out in time for the mob to reach us, back at Moscow, where we had been fighting off 'freedom fighters' all damn day. They came at us with molotovs, tanks, and even a few of those Panzer Hummels." The man attempted to rise and slice at the Russian, only to receive a vicious smash from the rifle butt, helmet bouncing off the floor, an audible crack mixing with the gunshots. Vlasov loomed over him, face alight with what could be described as inhuman ecstasy. "It didn't matter. We simply opened up on full-auto. And didn't stop until there was no mob left to shoot at. You see, civvies know very little about how we work. They know 'charge', and they know 'retreat'. They know some vague things about cover, too. That's why we had the Maripovs deploy ALL their missile racks and level half of Moscow. It was incredible. The streets actually flowed with blood. One million dead, all because we weren't in control anymore. Because of your little game, half of Novgorod Rus was dead by the time we escaped into Siberia. You left us to die, **IVAN**!" Vlasov roared, smile looking distinctly hungry now. Suddenly the emperor sprang upwards, perforating the Russian's left shoulder with a hiss. "Almost went as planned, too. Damn goblin."

**HA!** A dozen Kalashnikov rounds tore a vertical stretch up his right side, the sword arm going limp. "Let's see how you like dying without anymore words or breath. OVER THIRTY SECONDS!"

The bayonet scythed from the left, tearing through the fabric, through the skin, and right through the neck. In a split second, Vlasov drew the flat side of the blade back under the head, and then bounced it upwards. The helmeted head seemed to fly in slow-motion to the side, the actual head falling out of the helm, a look of shock on its face. A faint gasp came from behind the mercenary. The headless corpse crumpled to the floor, twitching and spasming.

By where the two Knights were tackling the monster tank, cries of shock and dismay came. The remaining thralls fought even harder against their foes.

And Vlasov stood there, laughing raucously and triumphantly. He looked over to where the head had landed, its expression curiously blank. "Spending your last moments philosophizing, Ivan? Tell me how that feels in Hell, will you? Now, I think I like that girl of yours…"

"_Taken already. Damn, but you're annoying._" Said the voice of Lelouch.

Vlasov looked back in alarm at the source of the voice. The headless body had stood up. The neck was still spurting blood, but it also sparked. Around the throat, the metal collar and lapels which the mercenary had ignored buzzed, the lapels lighting up red. He whipped his head around to stare in disbelief at the disembodied visage, his mouth working soundlessly. The face was wearing a most innocent, even beatific smile. "_You see Vlasov, I can't die so easily. It's irritating and inconvenient to be put out of action by something like this. Therefore…_" The body began walking over towards the head, tapping the collar as it did so. "_I decided to make insurances for myself. I wasn't expecting to be able to talk like this though. Another perk of the job, eh? Frankly, Vlasov, I'm disappointed. To actually think I was human enough to die from something as simple as decapitation. Heh heh._"

The other mercenaries had stopped and stared in horror at the spectacle, some getting cut down because of it. Vlasov simply gibbered, his gun-arm shaking. As the body reached its head, the face changed its expression to a positively monstrous smile. "_Do you think…_" the body picked up the head, then squelched it back onto its neck. His hands patted down the sides, steam and hissing coming from the cutting line. A few seconds more and he rolled his head with a crackle. "Mmmmhhhahhhh… They called me the Emperor of Demons for _nothing_?" Vlasov franticly backed up, shuddering, face twisted into a petrified grimace. "D-diavoli! Human DIAVOLI!"

That unnatural smile still stretched across Lelouch's face, vindictive relish in his eyes. "The Devil is nothing on me, goblin. A human daemon is correct, for I am malice incarnate AND eternal. Give your life to oblivion as pay for your hedonism, for you have no hope of leaving this room with body and spirit as one."

The mercenary stared for a few seconds, then darted backwards, seizing Nunnally once more, pressing the Kalashnikov into the side of her head. "Let's see you do something now, you crazy fuck. C'mon boys, get over here!" Vlasov leered at the Demon, a mad, desperate gleam in his eye. There were nine remaining of the Russians in the chamber, and they formed up around the wheel-chair, covering the beleaguered revenants and security troopers. Lelouch stared at him, looking bored and annoyed. "You realize that this isn't going to work, right?"

"If you want your sister to live, you're going to let us out of here. Nothing else."

[(Perspective flip)]

The Demon Emperor quirked an eyebrow. Behind him, Suzaku and Kallen had finally broken the Maripov, and had walked up to stand by the other soldiers. By the sound of his footsteps, 'Zero' had _not _expected what had just happened, and wasn't too far away from a breaking point. Kallen was breathing hard, but whether that was caused by adrenaline from fighting the crab or shock at seeing his morbid ability, he couldn't be sure. C.C. was silent as the grave, but that was normal.

Keeping his gaze fixed on the Russian (away from the half-shocked, half-terrified visage of his sister), Lelouch spoke, maintaining a flat tone. "Much as I would like to let you out of here and then shoot you down, I have something else in store for you. Zero, what time is it right now?"

'Zero' coughed; there was a rustle of fabric, then a gruff answer. "8:05. Is it important?"

The warlord smirked. "Very. Because of the disruption caused by my strike, the rest of the encirclement can move in. And right about now, they'd have readied some of their… more versatile tools. In fact, they're slightly overdue…"

The mercenaries stared at him for a moment, then Vlasov's eyes widened in dawning realization. "Ohhh, Sh-*" BOOM

A section of the wall facing the outside of the Tower exploded inward, filling the room with more choking dust. A series of eight bright green lights cut through the miasma, originating from armored-looking silhouettes. From behind them came the breezy drone of a JAF combat VTOL, the exhaust blowing dust and gravel inside. There was a pause, and then a loud bang, accompanied by a flash that put the figures in sudden, sharp relief. They were a Gauntlet Force team, the special operations commandoes of Japan. Very well-equipped and trained to near-perfection, the only force with a higher performance were the thralls of the Shadow Empire. The appearance of the fearsome (and more importantly, supposedly dead) Demon Emperor, and the attack on their transport only served to make them more tense. As the sound of dog fighting gunships filled the air, along with that of damaged engines, it was the mercenaries who opened fire first. A split-second before they returned fire, Lelouch began to shout his command over the bullets flying. "Vlasov, **move forward until I say 'stop'!**" And obediently he did, marching listlessly forward to the horrified confusion of his subordinates… And Nunnally's equally horrific realization upon seeing Lelouch's steadily less human looking expression. "Lelouch… please don't--*"

"Too late to **stop** now…" The tyrant hissed.

The Major seemed to wake up, blinking and swaying on his feet. "Wha-What the……….AAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

Lelouch impaled him below the wound on his left shoulder, retrieved pistol aimed right at his face. "This was planned from the beginning, Antonin. You're a loose end in the plans I weave. Loose ends have caused unimaginable pain for me. So, my dear Major, die like a supremely unimaginative free lance is supposed to. Goodbye." Inexplicably, Vlasov gave a deranged smile as the muzzle was pressed to his forehead. _**HA! **_** BLAM **

The remainder went down quickly, the first to the guns of the GF team, the last to the blade of the wall-running Suzaku, who proceeded to cut Nunnally's bonds loose.

**Ζ**

"Well, that was as short as I'd hoped it'd be."

The emperor started wiping the blood spatter from his face with a distinctly lighter air.

"So what do we do now, secure the rest of the rest of the building?" Kallen asked, eyeing the GF team.

"Yeah, that's the next objective. Have you managed to get in contact with the Doctor since we got off the Sieg Ziz?"

"That would be a no. Nothing but static so far."

"Fine. I suppose the earful of moralistic lecture will come at me later. My lucky day. Anyway, I want to do something before we move out."

He turned to his sister, walking slowly towards her, his eyes finally going soft; said sister, however, was staring at him with a mixture of horror and disbelief,.

"Hello, Nunnally. Your brother's finally back. I'm sorry that we had to meet again in circumstances like this. Fate has a nasty sense of the dramatic, doesn't it? I'll do my best to make it up to you. All these years I've neglected you this way…" He said softly, reaching out towards her blood-spattered face.

"And you're continuing that neglect by what you've done here." Said Suzaku flatly. A hand with muscles like steel cords seized Lelouch's own and pulled it away.

"Zero, what're you--"

"Gauntlets, Tower guard, cover them. I'll take care of the leader." The false founder ordered.

At the moment, there were only six thralls left, along with Kallen and C.C. . The Gauntlets trained their guns on them, while the regulars did the same (11 remaining, two unable to stand).

"What the hell?! Zero, what _are_ you DOING?!"

"Putting a stop to you, Lelouch. Putting a stop to all this madness. You're supposed to be dead. Gone. Food for the crows or worms. Your continued existence is an abomination…"

The warlord rolled his eyes, wearily rotating his left hand, then leaned forward to whisper in an annoyed hiss. "Alright, _Hero_, enough of playing the righteous bastard. We're supposed to be uneasy allies, remember? Now please, let me speak to Nunnally."

"You've spoken," Suzaku ground out, grip on Lelouch's arm tightening. "And she's _seen_ you. Isn't that enough?"

The emperor stared at him, brows furrowing. "I. Haven't. Seen. Her. In. Three. Years. I want to talk with her, make sure she'll be alright, like I'm supposed to." He hissed testily.

"There will none of that happening anytime soon. She's just seen her last, uncontaminated memory of you tarnished and shattered _by_ **YOU**. What happened to the heroic, human, caring brother she _thought_ she knew? Gone, or worse, nonexistent. There's a monster where he might have been. You feed on terror and blood, don't you? You relish using that power of yours. You enjoyed killing Vlasov that way."

"So what if I _did _enjoy a little theatre? That's true. And the bastard deserved it. Everything you said before that is a LIE! She knows I'm not**" Lelouch snarled. Zero shoved his mask forward, into the warlord's face. "**Does she**? She's never seen you like this before; you could always hide your fangs behind her blindness, while only sweet words came to her ears. Now, she's seen you smile, heard you torment your prey. Brother is a monster after all…"

"Suzaku… stop this. Pleasssse…"Lelouch whispered hoarsely.

Zero drew his sword with a hiss. "No. You see, I'm not just angry because Nunnally is broken. I'm angry at you personally. I want to punish you for the hell you just put me through. _You _caused me to fail. _You _invalidated our plan by not getting rid of loose ends, by not telling me how to deal with people like Saxon."

"How could I have possibly--" the warlord spluttered angrily.

"I didn't notice it back then, but you structured the plan in a way that required YOUR continued input to keep it going. Then, with Requiem itself, I was put in a position of nominal authority and with a chance to make changes… Which was stripped down by how the Black Knights anger translated into disregard and disrespect. You made it so that Zero, of all people, would get strangled by red tape. Now your army of thousands is fragmented along loyalties to their home countries or worse, their generals. You made my job useless, Lelouch. I'm going to make you pay for the suffering you've caused."

The emperor's eyes bulged in anger as he drew his rapier. "You fool… Stop this while you still can. I will _kill_ you if you continue with this madness, this posturing…"

Suzaku let out a harsh, bitter laugh which even the voice changer in his helmet couldn't alter over. "Madness? _You're_ giving me grief on madness?! You're the madman that thinks his sister wants to talk to him after a bloodbath like this!"

The false founder drove his sword in an upward slice, to be blocked by the rapier. The knee to the diaphragm however, went unblocked, and Lelouch doubled over, the wind knocked out of him.

"Gaahhhh! You're doing this again! Selfish fool!" he gasped, grip on his blade shaking.

"Me, selfish? The man who supposedly wanted to act out his death wish in grand style to the tears of everyone "_dear_" to him, then turns up very much alive after watching the show, calls me selfish?" Zero hissed, launching a punch at the overlord's face. Lelouch grabbed him by the wrist, barely keeping the lock.

"Look, I'm trying to work some damage control with the situation. I'm trying to help, starting with Nunnally… So let me help her…" he whispered, the last fragments of control in his voice breaking up.

Another punishing knee strike nearly floored him, followed by a backhand that made him stumble back.

The mask spoke again, softly and with loathing. "I'm going to stop your 'help' before it makes things worse. After the hell you put us through, I really don't think you deserve her…"

Lelouch's teeth ground together in rage as he lunged at his former friend, hacking down with the rapier while seizing his collar. "Who… Who are you to decide that?! She's MY sister, dammit! MINE! And if I have anything to go by, you brought this upon yourself by not improvising, you incompetent---"

Suzaku's fist connected with the emperor's nose with a sickening wet crunch of broken cartilage. "SHUT **UP**! You did NOTHING! You just sat around in some bunker, preening your ego with that witch to comfort you! At least I _tried_ to make things better…"

A high kick knocked the rapier from Lelouch's hand, followed by Suzaku's own hands wrapping around the overlord's throat. "Now, I'm guessing you have the same powers as C.C., judging by how you're still alive. That doesn't stop you from being knocked out though, does it? And those little wires aren't meant to break inside your neck, are they? Well, I'm just going to make you lose consciousness, then lock you away forever. _That's _what you deserve…"

As his grip tightened, Nunnally seemed to finally awaken from the shocked daze she was in, looking in alarm, then panic at the spectacle before her.

"ZERO! Let him go! I order you to let him go this instant!" She shrieked.

"Too late for that…" Suzaku muttered.

Kallen and the thralls were both incensed and despairing. They could do nothing as Lelouch's systems began to short out.

"Damn you… You've gone too far… Heh. Hehehehehh. I gave you a chance, now you've gone and muffed it." He leaned closer to the mask, gripping at those killing arms, an insane grin plastered on his face. "Zero, you called me a monster. Tell me, do you _really_ know about the monster in me? It's been growing for years, ever since the assassination all that time ago. It only woke up for the first time when I received that power. It awoke again today, and it's still hungry. It hungers for your blood, your PAIN! So…" Lelouch rasped breathlessly, his grip tightening on Suzaku's arm; there was the cracking sound of bone, and with a cry of pain, the strangling hands loosened. "I will show you the monster you so hate. I WILL SHOW YOU WHAT LIES BENEATH MY _TRUE_ MASK!" he shouted gleefully, his fist sinking into his opponent's solar plexus.

Suzaku staggered backward, doubled over, staring at the emperor in revulsion. "*cough* You've gone insane!"

"Have I, _hero_?" he snarled back, beginning to raise his arms into a stretch. C.C.'s eyes widened in realization of what the war lord was about to do.

"Lelouch, don't do it! You can't kill him! You know you can't! Remember the plan!"

For an instant, there was sadness in those hellish orbs, and then they blazed with spite.

"I can and I will. He suffers, plan or no plan."

His extremities began twitching. Still glaring at Suzaku, he called out. "Kallen, Nunnally. Please look away. I don't want you to see this."

He leered at Suzaku, eyes wide.

"**REX DAEMONICUS!**"

There was a chirp, and then…

His body began to shift and crackle, joints popping and straightening as if under high tension. Slowly, his limbs stretched out, and he hunched over, more cracks coming from his spine. He began breathing hard, face set in a grimace, his eyes bulging in their sockets. He reared up, face towards the ceiling, arms flung to his sides, an agonized scream rending the air. Tearing sounds, of clothing and of flesh, echoed through the chamber. His arms and fingers stretched out unnaturally long, shredding through his gloves and tearing the fabric of the sleeves. On the underside of his left hand, small segmented blades hidden in bone poked through the skin along the lines of his fingers. The other snatched and spasmed, spindly but powerful. His legs straightened and stretched unnaturally as well, adding a few more inches to his height.

With a crunch of bones rearranged and a whine of servos working, his torso warped, straightened, and then seemed to elongate, more tearing sounds audible from where the skin couldn't take the strain, the clothes now hanging loosely around it like on a dehydrated corpse. His neck stretched out with a crackle, his jaw worked for a moment… And he lowered his head to face Suzaku, who had started shaking uncontrollably.

His face was… horrible. It was like looking at a death mask, but still clothed in vital flesh. The skin around his jaws was stretched back, the muscles taut, exposing perfect white teeth in a terrible rictus grin, marred further by blood trickling from where the stretch had been too much. His nostrils flared, his skin was stretched tight over the skull, and his hair was matted with sweat. And then there were those bulging, smoldering eyes, filled with a murderous intent.

For a moment he just stood there, breathing deeply and with difficulty. Then he spoke, a nasty, growling rasp. "Seee… See what I've become. See what happens when one has suffered enough to do this to himself in order to stop it. A living, thinking weapon where once the body was feeble. Look at me."

Suzaku stared at the ghoul before him in utter astonishment. "Y-you became this… for what?! Why would even want to become this...thing? What madness told you this was supposed to happen?"

The creature lifted a long, spidery hand and pointed with one spindly finger at him. "What madness? Grief. What purpose? You. In general, those like you: supersoldiers, prodigies, adepts. As much as my mind could fell the strongest and most competent soldiers in any army, there were times when it wasn't enough. There were times when this body betrayed me, when I wasn't fast enough, or wasn't strong enough. Some of those times… lives ended because I couldn't reach them fast enough. It's painful, very painful to become like this, but the alternative is far more permanently so. At any rate…"

Lelouch clattered the blades in his left palm. "I care very little about my appearance. If such things like pain and disfigurement are the price to pay for being able to destroy any obstacle in my path, then I'll take it. Hehhhhhh… you should be grateful that I should finish you so quickly..."

The whole room reacted to him; the thralls seemed not to particularly care; the regulars and the Gauntlet team faltered, distinctly rattled; C.C. stared down at the floor, green hair covering her eyes; Kallen stared at the travesty of a human being, somewhere between nearing tears and being violently sick; Nunnally looked on through her fingers in mute disbelief and revulsion, her eyes going watery.

Suzaku blinked, and then brought his katana to a ready stance. "Quickly? Alright, so you're taller, stronger, and look like a monster, but what of it? You're still Lelouch. Size doesn't matter. In fact, you should be slower now. I'll be the one to deal with you the quick way. The rest of you, whatever happens, keep covering these henchmen of his."

The overlord let out a cackle, then hunched over slightly. "You'll deal with me, eh? You're already being proved foolish. Why else would I take a transformation like this if it didn't make me faster?"

_Ziiinnngggg…_

The abomination came forward in a blur, moving aside for a second to retrieve the rapier, then bounding forward towards his quarry.

"It'sssss called adrenaline, Zzeero." The blur hissed as it came at him. He brought the sword up just in time to block a swipe at his chest, the rapier bouncing off the edge with a loud clang, the muscles of the White Knight's sword arm screaming in protest. "A…adrenaline doesn't turn you into a monster! Just how did you get wired up this much?!"

Lelouch grinned down at him, slicing with the rapier while making swipes with his bladed hand. "You want an answer? Fine. Let's just say I made Rakshata work out her old practice again…"

"Medical cybernetics? You ARE mad!" He knocked the rapier, then the blade-hand away, and aimed a punch at the overlord's face. It connected with his jaw, knocking the head back… only for him to look down in utter contempt at the false founder.

"_Really_? How much common sense do you NOT have?"

He slammed forward with the rapier pressing down on the katana, then seized the blade in the middle. "This is your family sword, right?"

He gripped the steel of the sword, the blades scratching and clicking against it. His hold tightened, and tightened, until…

KRAK. TINC. KRracktinckt.

The katana snapped in half, fragments embedding themselves into the floor.

Suzaku looked at what was still attached to the sword handle, looked at the emperor, then grimaced in anticipation.

Somehow, the rictus seemed even more malevolent. "That's right. Resistance is futile. Not that I don't enjoy you trying…"

WHACK

Suzaku was knocked into the air, breathless, the hand clamping down on his right side, then squeezing, the blades gnawing into his ribs.

"Gnnknnnnhhh… You don't fight very fair…"

The rictus gleamed back up at him. "You're supposed to be the knight in shining armor, not me. You're asking too much if you think honor has any bearing on my tactics."

"Tactics?! You're just torturing me! There's no tactics involved!"

"Certainly there are: those geared to cause you the most pain possible!"

Suzaku kicked out at the war lord's face, and was rewarded with the feel of something giving. Then he was slammed face down to the floor, hard. The sound of spitting and cursing reached his ears before he turned over. The rictus grinned down at him again, this time missing a couple of bottom teeth. "Now I'm **not** having fun. That's something else I have to regenerate… First, though…"

The blade-hand seized Suzaku's left arm. "I'm going to make an example of you. Something you can't hide under the costume I generously provided. Maybe then you'll realize how futile it is to challenge my wishes."

Suzaku lunged, wrenching free his other arm with a tear of fabric, and again clamped down on Lelouch's throat. The tyrant's eyes somehow widened further. "What are you…? What is this? Did you hit your head worse than I thought?"

As the blade-hand regained its hold on his arm, and the other grabbed his injured side, Suzaku just stared determinably onward, moving his right down to grab onto the lapels

"I'm continuing where I left off. Your neck's already stretched out now. Longer, more delicate spine, at least in certain sections. It took you roughly 45 seconds to get your head back on. Your body didn't stop moving, or rather was capable of articulate motion, because you wired up some kind of thought transceiver in those lapels. I'm also guessing you have a transmitter implant in your head. Therefore, if I can snap your spine in that place, and break the transceiver at the same time…"

The emperor let out a hiss. "You… you actually think this is going to stop me? What is there to say I won't just regenerate the damage? How about the bullet proof casings I put on these? _Who says I won't cripple you first_?"

"You can regenerate, but even your head getting chopped off had a brief effect. If I disrupt the transceiver, you'll be disoriented enough to be knocked out, chopped off, and dealt with. As for me, well, let's remember who wins a _deadlock_."

Another hiss came from Lelouch, and the strangleholds tightened, ominous cracking sounds coming from both limb and device, blood beginning to pool on the floor from where the spidery hand was doing it's best to collapse that side of Suzaku's chest.

"LELOUCH! Just let him go already! You've done enough to him!" Kallen yelled out, pleading mentally that he would come to his senses.

"Zero! _Brother!_ I order both of you stop this madness! Hasn't there been enough bloodshed today?!" Nunnally shouted, trying to sound authoritative, but ending up too weakened from the day's events to stop her voice from breaking.

There was a second's pause worth of consideration, and then the answer came in perfect, strangled stereo. "_**No**_."

Plastic cracked, teeth ground, blood flowed, tears formed, and hate ruled the world.

And then, a normally kindly and melodic, now irate, and most definitely **impossible **voice rang out in the chamber.

"_Both of you, __**I **__command you, stop this NOW. This has gone on far too long for me to sit and watch uselessly. So stop, please…_"

Their holds on each other slackened to nothing as their minds went numb from the sheer heart-breaking absurdity of the moment. Denial. So much denial filled them as they lurched painfully around to see the source of the voice.

C.C. still stood where she had been stopped, but there was the image of another person seemingly overlaid or overlapped with her own. An elaborate dark pink dress, a taller and more pronounced figure, impossibly lilac curling hair… And the unmistakable, currently scowling face of Euphemia Li Britannia.

"Si… Sister Eu...phie?"

"Eu-cough-Eupheehmia? How…"

"The… the doll princess? But she…"

"Euphie… Why… Why is she here… She can't be here… _Please don't let her be real_… Any madness but that…"

She sighed, somewhat exasperated. "Of course I'm here. Who else could get you two to knock it off, if not Nunnally? This was the worst fight you two've had yet! And here I thought you two made up around that Requiem plan of yours…" She had started walking forward.

Lelouch shook his head, pointing wildly at the stupefied and/or confused soldiers around the room. "EUPHIE! GUARDS! PLAN! Grhghffgrr… STOP MOVING!"

The reason became apparent when one of the Gauntlets leveled his rifle, resolved to lessen some of the crazy that had ruined his day. The ethereal one huffed in a breath for her best 'Royal' tone. "Everything's under control now. You and your team can move on to something else, alright? Now move along, there's nothing more for you to do here."

The soldier resolutely continued to keep his lock on her, grinding out a would-be impassive response. "Hostiles can not give orders…"

"Especially not crazy ones!" a wounded regular added loudly.

"ExCUSE me?! What**" She spluttered.

"They can't see you. Don't provoke the man with the gun. I don't know what'll happen to you in C.C.'s body. So let someone else handle this." Came the muffled rasp of Lelouch, the man trying to hide himself, or least his face, under the tattered remnants of his cloak while lying prone on the floor.

She let out a surprised 'Oh!', then stood still, staring the poor Gauntlet down.

Nunnally, determinedly staring at Vlasov's boot while holding her forehead in one hand, spoke, quite wearily. "All soldiers in this room under the command of the JAF and the Order of the Black Knights, here is your directive from me: Stand down and assist the revenants in securing this installation. Any wounded I want in a safe location with a medic. I don't want any objections. Just do it. I'm safe here now."

Somewhat reluctantly, they did, gingerly carrying away their fallen.

"Kallen, get the thralls over to the door to make sure we don't have any listeners or watchers to worry about. This conversation would definitely be... compromising."

The Ace nodded and then did so, still throwing worried glances at Lelouch.

Nunnally waited until this was done, and then spoke, in what was a remarkably controlled tone. "Hello, Euphemia. Welcome back to the land of the living. Care to explain how you managed to do this? Or is that not in the offing for us to know?"

The princess smiled nervously. "Ummm... would you be disappointed if I said that I don't really know? I just saw those two fighting, wished I could do something, and then found myself here. The weird thing is that it didn't feel like _my_ wish being granted. I suppose... OH!"

Her image flickered for a moment, whereupon C.C.'s outraged expression became more distinct. It flickered back, Euphemia looking a little mortified.

"She must've brought me here. But I don't understand how she could do that."

Another mutter came from the prone warlord. "C.C. is a telepath. We think she's been getting stronger as of late. Maybe she channeled Euphie over..." Bizarrely, the next mutter came in a different voice and tone, as if a completely different person was speaking.

"_OR maybe something's wrong with your interface..."_

The ethereal one shrugged, and then began walking towards the dais, carefully stepping over the corpses.

"I'm not certain how long I can stay here before I get thrown out, so allow me to make the most of it. Let me deal with the aftermath of this nightmare first. Nunnally..."

The Coordinator blinked, then shifted her position further back into the wheelchair.

"'Deal with the aftermath'? Are you talking about me? I'm sorry, but there isn't any 'aftermath' to speak of. I'm still shocked, but who wouldn't be after seeing two people very dear to them come back from the dead? I will be fine, given some time for rest and thinking this whole snafu over. Especially the security measures..." She said, making an effort to sound composed, but having an edge of uneasiness to her tone.

The princess increased the pace of her advance, shaking her head. "You're not fooling me on that count, you know. Nunnally V. Britannia as right now should be barely keeping together, on the verge of total collapse. You haven't just seen your brother and I come back from the dead, you've just seen something that you have never looked upon..."

"Where are you going with this nonsense? Get to the point." the Coordinator snapped irritably.

"You've finally seen the carnage that all members of our family are capable of. You see before you what it really looks like. I can tell you don't like to look at it, not just because of the gore, but because it reminds you something you yourself did. Am I right?" Euphemia asked calmly, tone neutral, features stern.

Her half-sister stared at her in shock. A groan came from the floor.

"No, _please _don't bring that up...** It's bringing the subject up; we have to stop it!**_ It's too late for that..._" the prone man snarled to himself.

Nunnally looked on in horror, her hands shaking on their armrests. "No, you mean... _Oh God no_... I'd only just tried to forget that..." She moaned, her wide eyes twitching, windows to a ghastly time and a ghastly place.

"Wait, what has Nunnally done? Last I remember, she was totally harmless." Kallen queried, walking towards the scene. Suzaku propped himself up, thinking aloud. "There's nothing I can think of eitherrr... Just that she was aboard the… Damocles when Schniezel was in control... She had something in her hand when I…*cough* saw her then... But what was it?"

Those same delicate hands tightened around the armrests, Nunnally's eyes scrunched shut in pain. "NO! I don't want to remember that! PLEASE don't talk about it! Leave the Key and everything to do with it **dead and** **gone**!" She screamed, almost child-like in her despair. The ethereal one looked at the girl sadly, gently pressing her. "Nunnally, closure is how we move on, not by shoving terrible things like that away. Just listen to me, and calm yourself. I'm not here to hurt you. I've _never_ wanted to do that."

"But we made her... We made her... **This is getting ridiculous!**" More mutters from the floor.

The princess had walked up onto the dais at last.

"Let me help you. Not everyone has days this bad, or this good, ever in their lifetimes. You don't have to be the stoic Coordinator all of time. You're human, and I was human. No one will turn on you if you let go." She continued soothingly, standing right in front of the anguished official.

"But... But why aren't you mad at me? Why aren't you after me for doing something so awful?" she whispered forlornly, tears beginning to trail from her eyes.

Euphemia gave a wry smile.

"Don't be silly. You remember who I am, right? This is your big half-sister talking to you now. You've had enough people yelling at and threatening you for one day. Just relax, and know you are among people who care for you. Remember the good times. Remember that sometimes we worry badly enough to go on the crazy side of caring. Like your complete goof of a brother who charged in with a full army just to make you safe. Or our impulsive knight who can become so distraught and angry." She chuckled fondly. "Or me, for goodness sake. I came back from death, just to stop these two from doing something they'd regret. And then there's you. You're one of us, one who has blood on their hands. And it doesn't belong there. Neither this nor Pendragon was your fault. It's all because of the crazy things that happen in this world, the hearts that go awry or blacken, the misunderstandings that bring strife, and the lies that cause them. But all these things can stop if someone can just remember when enough is enough. And what difference there is between love... and not caring at all. Now which side do you think I'm on? What about _you_?"

"That's... That's too perfect to be anyone or anything else... Who else-- **Shut up. I've had just about enough of this nonsense...**"

Nunnally seemed to shut down a little, drawing into herself, staring at her still-shaking hands, murmuring unevenly. "I... I... hhhhahh....... SISTER EUPHIE!"

She fell forward into her arms, finally letting loose a crescendo of sobs.

"What did I tell you...? It's better to let it all out before it turns into something bad..." Euphemia whispered, gently stroking her younger sister's hair.

"Hrrrsst… N-noO--- **Oh yes, very much so. But then, what is the difference between madness and reality? What about a delusion and certain deceit? The answer, dear friends, is this diabolical illusion before you!" **snarled Lelouch. Except that what rose from the floor couldn't quite be described as Lelouch. For one thing, the voice seemed more forceful and harsh. For another, the face had begun to slowly move back into its natural position, allowing for more expression. The enraged grimace wasn't much of an improvement; there was a martial ferocity about the eyes as well. For a brief moment, a different shape seemed to overlap with Lelouch's own somewhat gnarled frame. A billowing gray coat, a tall peaked cap, and a spotless black uniform were there, and the face was strange. It was like that of the overlord, but was older, more lined, and set in a sneer of contempt. The image vanished, and the body lurched forward. "**All night we were up preparing, ready to rescue our sister, ready to win the day and continue on with our plans. And then this happens. As if having to deal with Wonderboy over there wasn't bad enough, the idiot I have faithfully advised for years lets **_**this**_** paralyze his body and corrupt his wits. Cheap, pathetic tricks. That's what this reeks of. You hear me, Saxon?! PITIFUL! If you could do something this elaborate, why are there no other measures in place, like some high explosives? Is this alien technology of yours only good for a psychic prank?! Come out and do something, you filth! Get away from our sister. Let C.C. free of this nonsense!" **The Critic roared, striding towards the pair.

They stared back, mortified. Nunnally trembled, her eyes wide from a horrified realization of what she had never known about her brother, the wrongness that went beyond corruption. Euphemia stepped back from her half-sister, aghast at what was transpiring, unable to stop looking at the being stomping over to her. She swallowed, then tried to hold some of the firmness she had admired Cornelia for, speaking to the entity in a steadily more timid voice as it got closer, however. "Alright... So you're Lelouch's dark secret. Are you another voice in his head, a -a split-personality? Are you, uhm, some kind of spirit? Errr... Look, I can leave C.C.'s body fairly soon, well, can't stay very long anyway, her being so strong-willed and all... But I'm real, i-in spirit at least... Really, what would it take to convince you to calm down and just talk to me?"

The Critic halted a foot away from her, fists clenched, breathing hard, rage building back to murderous levels. He spat out his next words. "**Nothing. I will NOT tolerate this mockery of her memory, Xeno. It sounds like her, looks like her, smells like her, and even talks like her..."** The entity shook his head, and then clamped his hands around the apparition's face, briefly surprised to find purchase, then shifting his hold, a frightened squeak coming from her. "**But it's not her. Euphemia Li Britannia is DEAD! Dead by our own hands... And for you to defile such a spirit as her, Time Lord... we will not only end this obscene phantasmagoria, we will hunt you down and kill you with our bare hands!"**

Tears slid down the faces of both the phantasm and her host, a betrayed and sorrowful expression on the former. "Please.... you _know _it's me. Whoever and whatever you are, why do you deny me? Why can't you believe in the impossible when you've seen so many other things that "can't" exist either? Just look in the mirror!" The princess wailed, crackling red energy beginning to burn into her gossamer cheeks. The Critic didn't stop, but his own hands started shaking, his face twitching. "**I...I can't stop now, this has to end... The **_tears, th_**ey feel reA**l. Thisissisis** CANNOT **_possi_bly...Must NoooootnnnnmUST B_E Al-_**NO,NoO, stOP **thisFooo**OOOLSSS! We MUST Stopppp**--ALIVE! SHE _IS _NOT**ALIVE**_! _**Moisture... Mois**_ture_** on our face... NOOOOOO!!! STOP THIS you ID**IOT!**Sto-stop....**" The deranged argument echoed across the room, the shared body convulsing violently. Euphemia froze, having no idea of how to deal with this mad dervish without getting shredded. And then realized exactly what would bring this to an end. The grip on her face loosened, and she dove forward, knocking the war lord to the floor while staying on top of him. She shifted enough to where her face was mere inches from his own. The expression changed dramatically, from outrage, to embarrassment, to revolted lust, then utter shame. She spoke, gently but with a stern edge to her words. "What does your heart, your core, the Lelouch I know, know of me? What does a man who has died and lived again know of me? He knows that I forgave him. He knows that the impossible can happen. And he knows now that there is nothing in heaven or Earth that can stop me from reaching him. Listen to the master of your house. I'm home, boys."

The war lord froze, and simply stared in amazement... and then grief. He let his head fall back to the floor with a heavy sigh.

"This really isn't fair at all. That we should meet again in this way... It's ghastly. Obscene, even. I... I don't want to see you. You don't belong here... You don't. The dead don't belong..." His voice began to tremble. "I've already seen one example of this, and I don't want to see another. I want you to leave. Now. I don't need your help. _Especially_ not yours. Please Euphie, for the sake of my sanity, GO AWAY!" Abruptly he raised his voice, cracking it in the process. He stared at the ceiling determinedly, his expression a mix of despair and pain, the grimace growing more pronounced by the second. Euphemia sat up (still on top of him), looking down on him with a pout. "Hey, calm down already. I'll admit this was a bit of a shock, but it's not that bad, is it? On second thought, I didn't expect you to have split-personalities now... But that's why I'm not leaving yet. I need to make sure everyone's going to be okay after all this insanity. I want to find out what's wrong with you right now, Lelouch. Why were you trying to hide earlier? And... Why are you looking away from me? I'm not going to _do_ anything to you. I need to help you." She said, puzzled but determined.

The warlord shut his eyes, and then started whispering, slowly and brokenly. "I can't let you be here. It-it burns with you here. I don't want it to. My mind is on fire, and you're fanning the flames. It's like you're twisting a knife in me just by being here. I.... I can't bear it for much more... Don't make me beg.... LEAVE NOW!"

"I told you no, and I mean no. I'm not going until you're okay. Listen to me: I'm not mad at you for casting your Geass on me. I know that was an accident. I'd be lying if I said I'm happy in my current state, but I can understand why you shot me. Don't you remember? I told you that I don't resent you for it. So why are you doing this to yourself?" She asked, beginning to sound exasperated, bringing her hands around the back of his head, in an effort to force him to look in her direction.

Abruptly he brought his head up to stare directly into her eyes, his face still stretched, but now twisted into an anguished, twitching grimace, his own eyes bulging with pain.

"Do you have ANY idea what I actually PLANNED to do to you?! Do you know how for five years it's haunted me, how that day could've..." He faltered as he choked back a sob. "How it could've been different?! If I'd had the sense, if I'd done as I'd planned--"

Euphemia interrupted, trying to sound consoling, but looking steadily more apprehensive by the moment. "What could you have done? It couldn't have gotten any better, and you know it---

"Yes it could've... I could've killed you in that instant! Maybe then...hhehheheaeeehh... Maybe then I wouldn't be in this much PAIN!! Maybe then I wouldn't have gotten the blood of thousands on my hands, if I'd followed the first plan that went through my head... If I'd just grabbed the gun, pulled the trigger..." He trailed off, teeth grinding together, staring in mortal despair at his half-sister.

Euphemia stared back in mute, horrified disbelief, then haltingly spoke, her lips twitching into an incredulous, chiding smirk, while her eyes practically begged for some kind of dissent. "You can't be serious. You can't have had that plan, it would've been impossible for you... Maybe your memory went fuzzy from the trauma of what happened afterwards.... Lelouch, please tell me you're lying. Tell me it's something else that's doing this to you..."

The warlord didn't respond, just stared at her with a hopeless face, eyes unblinking despite the salt now present.

Euphemia sat there for a moment, the truth slamming down in her mind like 50 megaton bomb. The smile turned into a broken parody of itself, betrayal cutting away at her heart.

"No… No… You…*hee hee* you must be lying… You couldn't *hahahahahahahhh…*"

Abruptly her face turned to that of a mask of fury, something no one on the face of the Earth had seen before. "WHY WOULD YOU LIE TO ME?! You told me the truth about Zero, WHY NOT THIS?!" She screamed, Lelouch not moving an inch despite the abrupt volume shift.

"Who said I **could**? I told you to leave, so you wouldn't force this out of me…I didn't want you know this. _See what happens when nobody listens?_" He hissed, throwing up his hands in terminal frustration. "How hard do you think this is for _me_ to tell you all this?"

His face twinged, shifted to a snarl, then sagged back into a morose frown. With a huff, Euphemia prodded him in the chest, her face still twisted in anger. "This is one of your little split-personalities trying to get at me, isn't it? Whoever's giving me this nonsense**"

Lelouch seized her, and then started shaking her, a mixture of rage and grief further disfiguring his face back into a grimace, one eye wide and twitching, the other squinted from salt build-up. "Don't you GET IT?! I WANTED to lie! I can't… And that's why it hurts. But you have understand why**"

"Why **WHAT**? Why the first thought that popped into your head was to kill me? **Is** there a reason good enough for _that_?" The ethereal one snarled.

Lelouch sat still for a moment, completely passive. He then spoke, slowly and quietly. "Yes. A very good reason. I didn't want you to suffer. You were clearly resisting the command I gave you, fighting against it. No one had ever done that before. From that came the thought that you'd eventually throw it off. But you'd do it only **after** everything else had been done. If you'd killed Suzaku for instance…" He winced, then swallowed. "How do you think you'd take the news that your knight, your… consort was killed, by your own hands? Further, what about the thousands of people that you tried so hard to _help_?" He faltered again, took a deep breath to steady himself, and then continued. "Now, could you have imagined **yourself** doing all these terrible things? Can you imagine how you would feel, not knowing anything beyond the fact that _YOU _pulled the trigger and gave the orders? I knew exactly what would have happened. You would have been no better than I was, a walking corpse, a mere shadow of yourself, broken beyond repair. I didn't want that to happen to you. I didn't want so many to die without reason, their blood on your hands." He looked her in the eye, utterly miserable. "I wish that I had done that. I wish I had stopped you before the horror started. It punishes me everyday to remember that I staid my hand. I… loved you, Euphie… And that day, that moment, I failed you _completely_. I didn't want you to forgive me. I don't deserve your forgiveness. I deserve to be **damned** by you. What's in my memories cannot be fixed. What I didn't do cannot be undone. Any further kindness from you would be agony to me. Needles in my ears, knives to my heart. Do you understand now, my dear sister? It's hopeless to stay here."

The overlord sagged, then tiredly attempted to push his sister off of himself. She didn't move, just stared at him blankly, arms folded over her chest. "Lelouch V. Britannia." She stated, tonelessly. It was more like a pronouncement than any acknowledgement of the man. Lelouch glumly stared back. He opened his mouth to speak, then was interrupted by Euphemia raising a palm in front of his face. For half of a minute, there was silence. The princess' brows furrowed, then arched. She let out a heavy sigh, then spoke, still sounding a little miffed. "Brother… you are an _idiot_."

And in an instant, the cloud of anxiety filling the room was disrupted. From Nunnally's chair, a held breath came out as a nervous cough. From Zero came a muted "What?!". Kallen, who had been slowly stalking towards the pair, stumbled. Not even the thralls were immune, reeling in surprise.

"_**What?**_"

Lelouch looked completely bewildered, jaw dropped an inch, and eyes bugged out, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. A slow smile began to stretch across Euphemia's features.

"Now that's a face I haven't seen in years. In fact, I haven't seen you look this surprised since…" she trailed off with teasing smirk as Lelouch blushed scarlet from the memory. "Th-th-THAT was… I-it… How did you… Alright, _what is this_?" He stammered, discombobulated in extremis. "You were the angriest I've ever seen you a couple minutes ago, and now you're pulling THIS on me?! What's wrong with you, woman?!"

That smile took on a slightly more predatory feel at this point (under the phantasm, C.C. cocked an eyebrow in amusement) as she responded, in a perfectly neutral tone that somehow carried an air of mock menace. "I'm _still _mad at you, Lelouch. I just couldn't keep yelling at someone that miserable looking. Aaaaand, some of your wording caught me off guard. What was that about love, brother?"

Lelouch began to look like a rather pretty carp at this point, words failing him in a most spectacular fashion, the blush that had started going away coming back at full force.

Euphemia tittered mischievously, an eyebrow raised. "If it's alright with you, I'll ask on that later. But I'm not forgetting that." Her expression returned to seriousness, as did her next words. "Now, I understand completely why you didn't want me here. But, my point stands. You _don't need_ to do this to yourself. If I told you once, I'll tell you again." She got off of him, and then heaved him to a standing position, looking into his eyes sternly, but kindly. "You did the best you could with a terrible situation. If you tried to help me instead of shooting me from the first, as you did, I don't blame you for trying. I know it would have been impossible for you to kill me if you had any other options. I'll admit it. It does disturb me that you had that as the first plan in your mind, but I know why you thought that now. What I'm asking you to do is to stop hating yourself for that. You're not a monster. A monster wouldn't have felt guilty for doing things like this, even when those things were done for good reasons, with no ill-intent. Those thoughts did happen, and those deeds were committed, but tearing yourself apart for what you can't change, what's already happened…" She declined her head, keeping her gaze steady. "It's like you said, what's done is done. It's all in the past, and it's useless to dwell on it."

Staring over at them, Suzaku whispered emotionlessly, "All in the past… But the past matters…"

"I'm already dead, Lelouch. There's nothing worse that can happen to me, except for one thing. Seeing you and everyone else I knew in life suffering is what I cannot stand for. Especially if it's over me. So please, if not honoring the wishes of the dead, could you honor mine? We both live in eternity, and I don't want you to be miserable for all of it. I want you to go on with life, knowing that you have done what you could, and that you can be happy. Can you do that for me?" She asked, smiling slightly.

Lelouch sighed, then rolled his eyes with a smirk. "Unbelievable. You are completely unbelievable. From anyone else, this would all sound ridiculous, but… How do you keep a straight face while you're saying all this? Further, _how do you keep getting under my skin?_"

Euphemia waggled a finger at him with an expectant look. "Ah ah! First, you answer my question, don't question back. I'm not usually this strict, but I want you to stick to this. So, yes or no?"

Lelouch gave her a mock-sour look, then spoke, exasperated. "Yes? May I now know what the secret is to your terrible power? It's _really_ bugging me."

Her eyes went wide for a moment, and then she smiled warmly, tapping her head. "Secret? Really, Lelouch, it's not that hard. There's nothing wrong with being nice to people with no ulterior motive in mind. Also, I'm not stupid. I can see what's wrong with people, and I can tell what will help. In your case though…" She took his hand, leaned in a little closer. "You haven't changed much from what you were when we last saw each other…"

Suzaku got to his feet, looking around with another mutter, "She's right… he hasn't changed at all…"

She continued on, softly. "You haven't changed completely from when we were at the Aries Villa together. I still see that crafty little boy in you, however much covers him…"

"Euphemia… could I ask you a question?" 'Zero' rasped tonelessly, having trotted over to the dais, posture ramrod straight. Both she and Lelouch jumped, the former somewhat out of sorts as she turned round, the latter breathing out an annoyed sigh.

"Umm, yes, Suzaku. I'm sorry I couldn't talk to you earlier…" Euphemia said, staring at the resolutely worn mask.

"It's fine." He hissed. From his tone, it was anything but. "I just wanted to ask a request…permission, rather, from you."

"Yeeeesss?" the ethereal one replied, curious.

"What… *cough* _what do you want me to do with him_?" the knight wheezed out.

The princess cocked her head, uncomprehending; Lelouch nodded over to Kallen, who moved forward with a scowl, hand on her combat knife.

"What do you want me to do to Lelouch, Euphieeee?" Suzaku hissed, one hand clenched at his injured side, the other hidden in the folds of his cloak. "Say the word, and I'll mete out whatever punishment you wish me**"

"No! Were you listening to ANYTHING said earlier? I don't have any reason or desire to hurt him. So why are you asking me? Why are you asking at all?" she snapped, frustrated. The knight stood there, breathing laboriously. Euphemia studied him for a moment, then quirked an eyebrow. "Well?"

Hissssssssss

"Alright, so he finally lets out the full details on the hows and whys of that day going so horribly wrong. That doesn't change the aftermath… Your name, Euphie; that day blackened your name! Your status, your reputation, your work, all ruined because of _him!_" His words took on a feverish, unhinged turn, seething with anger. "Some form of justice must be brought down on him**"

"Oh _please_. Me getting mind-altered wasn't good enough for you? _Noooo_, that's not what you're after, is it? You're getting _jealous_, aren't you? How ridiculously petty." Lelouch hissed, a feral smile stretched across his face, hands twitching in anticipation.

"Me, jealous? HAH! Oh no, I'm just not done with you yet, snake!" 'Zero' snarled, fist clenched, edging towards him. "Really? Why don't you take off that mask so we can see how stupidly GREEN you are?!" The overlord taunted, re-extending the blades in his left hand. "How about I throw you off this tower, bas**"

"**BOYS!!!**" Euphemia shouted, keeping the two apart at arms length from her. "That's enough from _both _of you! For heaven's sake, look at yourselves. There isn't any reason _at all _for this!" The two didn't speak, just glowered at each other.

Mustering her eternal patience again, she turned to Suzaku, poking at his mask. "First thing: take that off. Now." She ordered sternly. The knight spluttered, trying to protest, only to receive a harder poke, Lelouch looking tiredly smug. With a few clicks, the mask disengaged. The ethereal one recoiled slightly; she hadn't expected the expression of rage twisting his features, scowling heavily, nor how red his eyes were.

He spoke, somewhat tremulously. "Euphie, after everything he's done, why can't I finally make him pay for all of it? Just tell me what I have to do…"

Euphemia stared into his eyes for a moment, then shook her head, speaking quietly and sadly. "You've changed so much in so little time, Suzaku. You've become so unhappy. So passionate, but not in a good way. You used to smile all the time when I last knew you. Oh, you were always a serious man, but you weren't **grim** like so many other knights were. Now, I can tell you haven't smiled more times than I can count on one hand, all these years. You've let anger take you over. You've made it your focus, your own muse. You've left that spontaneity fall away, that old friendliness rot. You've become so different from all this, that old shining armor turning to rust. What happened to the Suzaku I fell for? Why did you do this to him?"

The man blinked, expression shifting to a blank, the wheels of his mind turning. He blinked again. Finally, his eyes went wide with horror, his face went paler than it already was, and he gasped. "What have I…? What am I…. *Cough* Nonononononnononnonononononooooo…"

He sunk to the floor, hand over his face, muttering to himself. Euphemia knelt down also, whispering gently, arm across his shoulders.

**Ζ**

Lelouch watched this go on for another minute, staring blandly, then let out a heavy sigh. He looked over at Nunnally, opened his mouth as if to say something to her, then closed it, looking morose. He turned round to face Kallen. "Come on, Q1, let's get out of here. I think… we should leave them alone." He bent over to retrieve his helmet, then called over his shoulder to the Letters. "All of you stay here and keep these three safe. Miss Kouzuki will assist me in getting down to the lower levels. Oh, while you're at it, start clearing the corpses up in here. It's a bit morbid."

They nodded, and then went to their tasks. Lelouch started ambling past the barricades and to the exit, Kallen at his side, still looking a bit shocked. He hobbled over to the fallen Maripov, and then rested against it, a grim smile on his face, staring at the large hole in the ceiling where the assault vehicle had come through. "Alright Q1, no need to be polite; you think I'm a freak now, don't you?" He said, wearily resigned.

The bodyguard's eyes went wide with surprise, and then she coughed nervously. "What gave you that idea?! I mean, sure I'm going to be surprised if you show off what's really going on inside your head, and I wasn't expecting you to go Sledge Horror all of a sudden, but…" she trailed off as the overlord raised his eyebrows incredulously, still staring into the dust clouded hole. She stared down at the floor, arms wrapped around herself, speaking in an unhappily apologetic tone. "_Yes_. I wasn't expecting any of this at all. I wasn't expecting you to have murderous multiple personalities. I wasn't expecting you to be able to make yourself into a monster." She went a little green with this. "And I sure as hell wasn't expecting your implications on how you felt towards your half-sister… Yes, I'm sorry, but… Tamaki's right, you really are screwed up. I really don't know what to think of all this but that. Again, I'm sorry. It-it's _your_ problems after all. I suppose I should've thought this through a bit further…" She trailed off again at Lelouch's raised palm. The emperor gave her a wearily reassuring smile as he stood away from the wreck. "That's enough. Don't be absurd. As you said, you didn't expect any of this. You want to know something? _Neither did I_. Really, who on Earth could have seen so many things go so _bizarrely _wrong? I don't blame you, not in the least. It's been a terrible morning for me, too. I've discovered that I wasn't in as much control as I thought, over my plans, and over myself. I must try to improve, so that days like today can't happen again. Too much drama for one morning…" He leaned over with a sigh, then moved to fully face her. "Went on a tangent, sorry. I must thank you for being honest with me. The other Black Knights wouldn't dare say that to my face. Anyway, I'm not sure what I can say to make you feel better, apart from, I guess, some little feelings of my own on what you mentioned. If it helps, all of the other voices in my head _like _you, in their own, strange ways. I was kind offf hoping that you wouldn't find out about them. I'll see if I can keep the little bastards in their places from now on. As for my half-sister…" he puffed out another sigh, rubbing his hands together with a humorless chuckle. "It hurts to think this, but I'm glad she doesn't have a body. That way, neither of us can act on… those feelings. Yes. That's way it should stay. _Impossible_." He shut his eyes for a moment, then started clambering over the Maripov's massive claw, continuing on with some difficulty, sounding more tired by the second. "So, tell me, do you still want to follow me after seeing what _can_ happen when things go badly wrong? It's still me in here, just with **really** disturbing background information. So come on, is this screwed up loony still worth it?"

He almost fell on the floor as he heaved himself over one-armed (the helmet held under the other), but righted himself, albeit unsteadily, to look back at Kallen. He wasn't expecting her to have propped herself on her elbows on top of the Krab's claw joint; as such, she was almost nose-to-nose with him, currently giving him an exasperated glare.

"Let me guess: you're about to rhetorically ask if I've lost my marbles again." Lelouch stated dryly, forcing the blood from his cheeks again.

She raised an eyebrow, smirking. "No. I already know that. That's part of what makes you interesting. Really, I think Euphemia's right. You're brilliant when it comes to planning things out, but on relationships and how people think… _Jeez_. I'm not going to run away just because you reveal a couple of your… admittedly nasty secrets. I can work with those. I'm your bodyguard, remember? If I don't stay around to knock some sense into you, who else will?" She chided, still looking a little pained.

Lelouch's own eyebrows drooped. "That'ssss not the role of a bodyguard, last I remember, but… You do tend to do that to me. Hmmpf. I'm pleased to hear you're okay with all this. I guess it's better for you to know now than when one of my little voices tries to talk to you completely out of nowhere. And trust me, they _do _want to talk to you." His eyes glimmered darkly as his lips pursed. "A little warning though: If my voice suddenly goes high-pitched and a little deranged while you're with me, and _not_ with my laughs, whatever the circumstances we're in, **run**. I don't think he'll want to hurt you, but I don't want to risk anything happening to you because of a lapse. And before you ask, I will explain what each of these personalities is eventually, just not now. Not when there's the possibility of those soldiers getting information out that I'm still alive. Is that taken care of, Q1?" the warlord hissed, standing up, swaying for a moment before regaining his balance, back to business.

Kallen twitched, surprised at the sudden switch back to the mission, then got off the Maripov's claw, putting her hand to the comm set, changing its frequency. "6, this is Q1, requesting update on the pawns. Are they silent now?"

She listened for moment, then nodded. "Acknowledged. Good work, Q1 out." She switched off the receiver, looking impressed. "Wow. They worked off the jamming devices already in place, then gassed them just as they were getting to a clear spot. If they can outsmart Gauntlets, what else can they do?"

Lelouch quirked an eyebrow, then started staggering off down the hallway, calling over his shoulder, "You'll see soon enough. It'll be a rather big surprise…nnngh." He put his hand to the cracked inner wall, wincing. Kallen hopped over the wreckage, running over to him, looking worried, holding him steady. "Are you alright? Why are you limping around like a geriatric old man?" She asked, looking him over.

The first thing she got in response was a withering glare, followed by the beginnings of a muttered rant. "'Are you alright?' she asks... Woman, do I _look _**alright** to you?!"

She threw up her hands, mock-scandalized and exasperated, giving him an annoyed look. "Sorry I asked! I just want to know what's wrong with you, Sir Cranky."

The warlord leaned over, then stumbled backward into Kallen's arms (provoking a slight blush as he bounced off her a little), muttering angrily. "I'm tired. Damn but I'm tired. I remember this happening before when I tested the Daemonicus system for the first time… This is the real drawback of the system, the cool down; the constant tissue regeneration required to run this body at full adrenaline fuelled power for longer than a few seconds drains my stamina, uses up an obscene amount of energy. The system is designed to work off the regeneration, as any normal person would be torn apart if they forcibly went to maximum adrenaline. Now, a disadvantage the regeneration Geass has is that it's not entirely free. It consumes amounts of energy proportional to how much damage needs to be regenerated. That's why C.C. was sometimes more lethargic than usual after missions where she received critical injuries. Although," He put on a wry smirk. "Knowing her, my theory could be completely wrong. Oh well. Bottom line, I'm going to collapse soon. Don't worry; it should only take an hour for me to rest up enough to stand after the collapse happens. When it happens, just sit beside me and wait it out. Just keep in mind that I might be only slightly more talkative than a doormat. In the meantime, let's keep moving while I still **can** move. You can put just one arm on me; I don't need complete support."

Kallen nodded, still a bit bewildered, and started helping him slowly amble down the way. No further than five steps later…

_Whirrr---clickclikclk_

His torso dropped an inch, and then he went limp, the lapels buzzing, falling bonelessly sideways, Kallen managing to catch him and slowly prop his body up against the wall, fighting down a snicker at the protracted expletives quieting down to nothing.

"Well that was short." She teased, leaning over him. Response? Another exhausted glare. "Hyu… can lafff… when **hyuu** feel… like hyou're ninety yearss… old. Nnnot before." Lelouch forced out, scowling.

She snickered, then smiled ruefully. "Sorry, but knowing how unathletic you were before your 'upgrade' makes this a bit funnier. Should I put your helmet on for you, in case someone comes along?"

He shook his head slightly, pained even by that. "Nnno one's… coming through here… but Lletterss. Ssset it next… to meee." He croaked.

The quiet conversation going on in the throne room had stopped, mainly replaced by the sounds of the thralls going about their tasks. What caused Kallen to turn around was the whirr of Nunnally's wheelchair. She was trundling down from the dais, the thralls, Suzaku, and even Euphemia clearing a path for her, dragging away corpses and other debris. The Coordinator had a determined look on her face, no other emotion discernable. She stopped in front of the wrecked Maripov, which made the entire hallway inaccessible to her wheelchair. She looked up to the ace, seeming a bit frustrated. "Kallen, could you lift me over this hurdle, please? I want to talk to my brother." It was a request, not a command, to the bodyguard's mild surprise.

"Sure, I can do that. I can't promise he'll say much, given what's happening to his body, but you can try." She said, as the princess put her arms over the joint, leaning. Kallen gently took hold of Nunnally's slender waist, then prepared to lift, the coordinator taking hold of her shoulders.

"Ready?"

"Go for it."

She was lighter than the pilot expected, despite having grown a good deal since they had last met. Kallen started walking over to the immobile overlord, carrying the girl, when she was motioned to stop, and let the waif down. "Are you sure you want to be let down here? There's a lot of dust and plaster over here, not to mention blood…" she trailed off as Nunnally stared her down, then spoke in a tone almost identical to that of Lelouch when calling out someone for a silly question. "I have been spattered with blood and brain matter, all over my gown, and all over my face, as well as a coating of pulverized masonry. Does it seem to you that any more of that would bother me? Keep in mind that I haven't bathed in twelve hours also. I want to be able to move around him if I want. A little dust won't hurt me in that. Now let me down, please."

Still unsure of the reasoning with this, Kallen set her down, watching her crawl over to the quite stationary Lelouch. She sat on her knees for a moment, just studying the face of her apparently unconscious brother. With a sigh, she slowly and carefully maneuvered herself so that she was sitting just over to the left of his chest, only her hands actually touching him. She leaned over him, swallowed, then whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm here, _brother_. I know you're not asleep."

Immediately his eyes flashed open with a spark of energy, making Nunnally flinch backward in surprise. "Sso, hyu wanted t-to talk… to mee… afffter all, eh? Silly…girl… No use… talking…nnn_ow_." The warlord forced out with a grimace.

His sister gave him a watery smile, shaking her head. "Coordinator's prerogative. Have to thank the local help for getting me out of that nightmare." She said mock-airily.

Lelouch coughed, raising an eyebrow. "Excussess… Oh… tohellwiththiss…" he ground out, then tried to move his arms. The most he managed was to touch the side of her skirt with his left hand, and bring the right over his sternum, before they both went limp again. He smirked wanly. "Pathetic… Can't even e-emmbrace hyuuu…Now… hyu see…" He ground his teeth together as he left the thought unfinished, the effort draining him further. Nunnally stared at him, looking near tears. "Is there anything at all I can do for you, Lelouch?"

Those hellish eyes flickered shut for a moment, then looked right into her own deep-blues. "….D_on't_… _**e-ver**_…call me a… de-mon…a-gain… I _beg _hyuu…" He rasped, unable to speak any more, eyes scrunched up in pain. His sister recoiled, mind reeling from that horrible memory. Her lip trembled. "That hurt you didn't it?" she said remorsefully, her voice beginning to break. He brought his head forward an increment, looking miserable himself. The girl sniffled, tears starting to trickle down her face. She put her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. "I won't _ever _say that to you again. Never! I killed you with those words… Those were the last things you heard from me… I'm sorry, Lelouch_. I'm so sorry_. Please don't leave me again… Don't go away…" she pleaded brokenly, voice choked.

And then, slowly and tortuously, the overlord's arm moved over her back and shoulders before falling limp, almost like that of a corpses embrace, but an embrace nonetheless. Nunnally went rigid with a gasp, surprised at the movement, then carefully moved to look at her brother's face. He was clearly in pain from the forced effort, and had a reproachful look in his eyes. She stared at him for a moment, then, after a quavering deep breath, smiled, a little sheepishly. "Oh… I remember that you never liked to see me this way. You never liked to see _anyone_ cry. You would always…" she dissolved again, tiredly laying her head back down on him, whispering tremulously. "I missed you _so __**much**_, brother… I wish you could be here, _always_. Don't ever do that to me again…"

And on the face of the ferocious Emperor of Demons, feared as are the worst nightmares, hated by nearly all, was the most contented smile an older brother could have.

**Ζ**

Kallen had to admit; even she was having trouble keeping composure. She had decided to step out of the hallway to give the siblings some privacy, and while unable to hear anything the two said, just looking at them was enough to bring up warm feelings. _So that's what he's like when he's with his sister. I wonder if he was this nice to her in the old days… What am I thinking? Of course he was…is. Heheh. Will be._

Looking in the other direction almost made her laugh out loud. Suzaku and Euphemia were chatting animatedly with each other, Suzaku looking almost like his old self again, the merriment back in his eyes. From the sound of things they were commiserating over how exceedingly **dull** the work of governance (and the paperwork therein) was, the princess having successfully guided the conversation past all the potential storms the topics could possess.

With a sigh the ace started helping the thralls move bodies, not daring to go near or even look at some of the more mangled ones.

So far there still hadn't been any transmissions from the Doctor. There had been updates from Sayoko and Jeremiah throughout the conversations with the ghostly princess, however. The Doctor had led a squad into the ruined tunnels of the place, and had yet to have come out. Apparently he had spotted several contact signatures that matched nothing else on the battlefield, and had gone to investigate. It was only now that anyone could afford to go after him.

At this point, the thralls were selectively eliminating the jammer devices, so that at the moment, there shouldn't have been any severe interference in the throne room.

Suddenly, Kallen's headset buzzed, and she put her hand up to it, turning on the receiver. "Q1 here, confirm**" "Kallen... You need to get your boss out of where he is now. There's no time to explain, just do**" The Time Lord gasped urgently.

"Doctor, what have you been _doing_ down there?! Why are you so**"

"It's a trap. This whole battle's been a trap from the beginning. Get him **out** of there _NOW_….YOU'VE GOT INCOMING!"

Kallen ran, the sound of the missiles being launched barely registering with her mind, the comm device still open, the Doctor shouting for her to get moving. She was almost to the exit, the shriek of the propulsion systems screaming through the holes in the wall, when she tackled from the side, pulled to the floor. "GET OFF---"

**WHUMP—KARUNCHTRRtttrrrrr THWOOMMMMmmmmm**

**Ζ**

"Uuuuuughhhh… What the hell…?"

Lelouch Von Britannia was awake, that much was certain. Everything **else**, however…

_Where am I? Why can't I see anything? Was I buried alive? How long ago did I black out? Why have the guns stopped? Why does my head hurt? ……What's happened to Nunnally? Whereisshe!? Imustknownow! Mustknow__**NOW!!!**_

With a strength that surprised him, he tore away the masonry and rubble encasing him in a single standing motion, whirling around to look behind himself. Despite the blurring and dust obscuring his vision, he could see his sister. Even more importantly, he noticed the trickle of blood running down her face. He franticly wiped the grime from his eyes, then knelt down, first brushing her hair back from the source of the blood(a nasty looking cut on her forehead), then putting a hand to her neck, just in case. To his relief, he felt the faint thuds of a pulse through his fingers. With a sigh, he turned around to investigate the steady drone of the airship he had heard since he had awoken a minute ago. Then he froze, unable to breath. He was on a ledge, facing outwards for an amazing view of the heavily damaged metropolis, and he was a mere two feet away from the edge. But that wasn't what sent ice through his veins.

An international news ship, its sides open to air, was hovering in place seven meters away from him. A cameraman and a female reporter were standing at their positions, currently staring at him (and covering him with the camera) with expressions of shock. With an additional jolt that put a feeling of snakes writhing around his innards and bile rising in his throat, he noticed the red light on the camera. The little red light directly to the side of the single English word: **LIVE**.

Immediately he looked wildly from side to side, then behind him again, desperate for some way to escape. But there was none. The ceiling and walls had collapsed around him when the missiles had hit, the last thing he remembered before everything went red, then black. All possible paths had either fallen away or been sealed off. He slowly turned back around, eyes wide with terror, face bone-white, biting into his lip hard enough to draw blood, keeping back the panicked scream that welled up inside him.

Across the world, the human race reacted as every major news channel picked up the video. Men let mugs, papers, anything in their hands, fall, shivering and their expressions grim. Women screamed or shielded their children's eyes, distraught. Leaders of nations put their heads in their hands, or sincerely prayed for mercy. In certain quarters, families instead wept tears of joy, cheered and danced, running out in the streets to glorify the coming new order.

In London, a man and his wife smiled to each other gleefully. "Ohhh, isn't it _precious_, Lucy? To see brotherly love even under fire…" The Master observed, grinning triumphantly. "Yessss… Maybe we'll enjoy more of it when they're before a mob…" She purred, nuzzling his neck.

For a moment Lelouch just stared at the news crew, frozen in utter panic. Then one thought went through his mind. _**SAXON. SAXON. **__**SAXON****.**_

His face went taut with rage. He narrowed his eyes… And then his lips dragged back across blood-stained teeth, concluding in a perfectly **evil **smile. He stretched his arms out in front of him, shoulder-width apart, palms facing upward. He spoke, a malevolent, sadistic drawl. "Hello World. It's been _far_ too long…"

**Tappa-ta-tap Tappa-ta-tap-**

**Ζ** **Ζ** **Ζ**

_Ladies and Gentlemen: This was a bloody __**Brontosaurus**__. I never expected Zeta to become so huge, nor did I expect it to be delayed this long. My long vacation in Thailand is partly to blame, but I've also just got into college. At any rate, I need to know what I've done wrong with this monster. Keep in mind that some bits, like the Doctor's tunnel voyage and the conversation with Suzaku, will be expanded on in an Ether. Despite what you might think, not everything is magically better between Lelouch and Suzaku. _

_My apologies about all this drama. There will be much less moping about in Eta. In fact, there won't be any moping at all then!_

_Small warning: the supernatural elements I've brought in do have a point. In fact, there are some terrifying consequences of this first crossing over, still to come..._

_Thank Velshard, as I wouldn't have gotten this far without his help and editing. Also, any questions you ask (that don't involve spoilers) I will answer. In the meantime, please read and review this Mastodon. Again, any foreign readers, don't be afraid to review. I'll get in some OSTs soon when I edit this. Thank you for your patience. The next chapter will not be so delayed._

_Just to let you know, I will accept criticism, If I did do that badly. Because seriously everyone, this silence is unnerving... _

_Soundtrack:_

_.com/watch?v=Tolg4K61nDM ---Misha's Hymn- Purger: The Charge of the Doctor._

_.com/watch?v=dNv1ImIa1-4 --- Imperial Guard Theme(Choir and Percussion)--- Japanese Armed Forces/Tohdoh._

_.com/watch?v=TcVK0cs2mPk --- Gothic Sandy ReMix: Assault/The Emperor's Strike._

_.com/watch?v=iBTw2eHt5dY --- Low of Solipsism: Alternate music for Transformation/Rex Daemonicus_

_.com/watch?v=DIYus_VVjws --- Tree of the Dead: The Hollow Men/Vlasov(you know which scene)._

_.com/watch?v=yATxTMPTafk&feature=related --- Cold Nobility: Requiemfall._

_.com/watch?v=Zrfu42jvI8Q --- God Damn You: Brothers Undone/Suzaku takes issue._

_Teaser OST's _

_.com/watch?v=NshwfX1aggE --- The Master: "Reinforcements? *maniacal laugh* Sorry, but they're not **enough!**"_

_.com/watch?v=3u4YLIacGZo --- The Unsung War: "My Lord, we pledge ourselves in eternal service to you, as we have before. Now let us purge this treason!"_

_.com/watch?v=Zigox45nE4k --- Guren: "Guren Shuurajoe, Fully Online."_

_More Later._


	7. Chapter 7: Eta

Geass Aberration Eta

Post-Requiem Turn 7: **Η** = **Eta**

**_ Bear in mind: the system screwed up my italics and bolds on entry. Subsequent edits will continue over the next 48 hours._**

**Tokyo Tower Complex, "Centrum Umbrae", 10:45 AM**

"The common people. A race of poor, indecisive, weak-willed creatures scarcely above _animals_. That is what my enemies will say, what the line of those filthy feudal parasites will thunder away. Do you know what **I **say? I say that I _agree_." Lelouch von Britannia, Former 99th Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire and Sovereign of Nightmares, announced maliciously, hands clasped in mock praise on the podium, a sneer of contempt on his face. He leaned forward, grinning ferociously into the camera, palms slapping down on the fine wood.

"**Partly**. They _are_ weak-willed and indecisive, incapable of both recognizing and dealing with injustice directed their way. Oh, they _do_ have the means to better themselves, but… They misuse them, _**against themselves, of all things!**_" He paused to hammer the podium with a bloodied fist, hunched over, barely holding back a demented cackle. He lurched forwards, resting that ghostly visage against his steepled fingers, glaring over them with smoldering eyes narrowed, tone dangerously soft. "I disagree on the average man or woman being almost animals. They are far more than that. No, the label of being animals goes to another group of… so-called people. But they can be mentioned later. The average person is, very simply… **a tool**."

The steepled fingers receded slightly, revealing a deranged, toothy smile, mad eyes wide. "Yeeeeeesssssss… That's what you are, people of the world. But don't take it too hard. I'm _not_ insulting you. Tools are useful, easily manipulated, and are used to get the job done. Weapons are tools too, just veeeeeeerrry sharp and crafted for the bloody purpossssssssse…" Abruptly he yanked a ceremonial dagger out of its sheath in his cloak and violently slammed it into the top of the podium to its hilt, making the assembled officers in the purposely darkened room jump. He then rested his chin on the top of the handle, smiling like a cherub. "What's even better about those is that they're interchangeable. A sword can be turned into a butcher's knife, a shield can turned into a plowshare, a nice bottle of vodka can be turned into an oh-so-lethal incendiary explosive, and shards from a mirror can be used to slice someone's throat open. One can easily become fond of such implements. Why, such faithful tools as a reliable hammer or a lucky ivory-handled pistol can seem like the best friends in the world, in the right circumstances!" He stared off into space, the smile becoming fondly absentminded. "You make sure they're taken care of, that they don't break. And when they do break, you try to fix them…"

He leaned backwards, scowling, fingers gripping the sides of the podium. "But what about the **unreliable** tools? One must wonder if the treacherous hammer that crushed your finger had a choice in the matter. It didn't. **Traitors** _always_ did." He hissed bitterly.

He pointed beyond the camera, towards the outside world. The cameraman swiveled it around to face the now unblocked and un-plated windows.

**Η**

Where there should have been natural clouds, with the sun peeking in and out, there was instead a blanket of smoke, intermittently lit red or yellow by discharged cannons and explosions, as well as the fires of burning buildings. Hundreds of knightmare frames, tanks, and thousands of infantrymen fought and died on the smoldering ruins; in the air, gunships, flight frames, and helicopters dueled for supremacy, the _Ars Helios_ frigates launching volley after volley of excited hadrons at the opposing airships; out in the bay, a cruiser with JAF markings listed towards the shore, ravaged by shelling, in flames. As it crashed into the broken dock, a volley of cannon-fire from further out to sea tore it apart from stem to stern; a mighty UFN battleship hovered into view, beginning to bombard the parts of the city further in with its side guns while the armaments on the other side tried to fend off a trio of gunships. From the base of the Tower, artillery cannons boomed, firing showers of ordinance into the inland sections of Tokyo.

In the suburban sections of the area, the once quiet streets and lanes became war zones in their own right. The populace, to the surprise of commanders of both forces, did not all instantly turn on the overlord, nor was it split conveniently down the middle in terms of allegiance. Dozens of factions had begun forming within the hour, even naming themselves: The Kaware-Yokai(Demon Destroyers) formed with the distinct rabid hatred of the emperor, numbering the most out of that crowd; The Old Guard, veterans of the Japanese army who had dragged out their old swords and guns the instant it had become clear whose side General Tohdoh was on, joined by their older children, who sought to bring down those they perceived as traitors to Japan, but also seeking to bring order to the mob; The beleaguered Honored, the weary core of former Honorary Britannians who still had some loyalty to their old masters, all of them either well-trained or well-moneyed enough to continue surviving in a sea of fanatics. Most surprising were the Japanese who sided with the emperor for reasons only stated as sincere gratitude, and nothing more than that. Memento Vivi they called themselves, either fighting for Lelouch with a calm but adamant force, or broadcasting radio messages, sending off information on the scenario to any safe channels.

With the Britannian side, groups more easy to categorize were forming, but not without their own mysteries: The Swiss Zone numbered the most with the foreigners, but only by a small margin. They were the people that just wanted to be left alone, who didn't want to rise up, or were simply too afraid to pick a side in the fight; they maintained a sizeable safe area on the far side of the city, suppressing incursions on their territory. On the side decidedly against the emperor were the Purifiers, those who viewed his continued existence as an abomination, an insult to their heritage, whose anger outweighed their fear. These were held in check mostly by the most infamous and strangest of the groups, the 99th Unsung, taking up the core of those for the overlord, a mix of calmed Revenant gangs, loyalist expatriates, and veterans of the 99th's brief campaign, fanatically loyal, as well as ridiculously well-supplied and armed( several custom-built knightmare frames had been spotted since the start of the conflict, rendering an anarchist group defunct, before moving on to attack the side-streams of the mob), they were responsible for clearing out most of the smaller groups in the foreign quarter.

**Η**

"See, people of the world. See the destruction these filth, these worthless animals, have wrought!" The hegemon snarled, moving in front of the camera to gesture behind himself at the spectacle. "No, they are worse than animals. Animals work from instinct. Wolves do not betray their pack; vultures pick at and devour the dead because they must. Traitors don't even have that as an _excuse_. They are lower than the simplest bacterium, below _deserving_ life itself. **My** justice will part them from their ill-used privilege."

He scowled, raising a fist against his chest, abruptly quiet and serious sounding. "Clearly, these 'Knights for Justice' have deviated from the path of their founder. They no longer serve justice. They are an insult to the concept, and thus will be broken." Suddenly he brought his arm to stretch out in front of him, the fist opening…then it was drenched in blood, blades slicing up from under the skin to push through. He paused for a moment, allowing the blood to cascade down onto the floor, then spoke, quietly at first, but steadily growing in strength and volume. "**I** am the Emperor of Justice, he of Sanguine rule. Blood-for-blood, eye-for-eye, life-for-life. The traitor will not be allowed to survive. The rabid herd of Humanity that comes for me will not be tolerated. The injustice that has been committed against me will be _punished_. It shall be a massacre, the death of all who would dare stand against me. **Know me**, _mine faithful_. Know that your **Emperor** _beckons_ you to my service. **Know **me, world. Know that I still hold all of you in this bloody hand, which can _easily_ become a crushing fist. Know that your sovereign lord is merciful for your penance, your fear, your dread. **Know** me, you nations of the world. Know that I demand your compliance, your peace, or the lamenting of your women and your children will fill the air as a _chorus_!"

He put one hand against his heart while the blade-hand curled back into a fist, an expression akin to unholy anger twisting his features; he began to shout imperiously, his voice filling the chamber. "KNOW that your **master** has a new edict: _**All ye of royal, noble, and common blood, I command you to KNEEL before me! I demand the world to recognize my will, as Emperor, of a new age, a new Empire, greater than that of any Alexander or Britannia! Come to me, tools to my hands. Together we will build that empire, as a masterpiece of Humanity! No mortal man or woman may stand against us. So, world, as your rightful King dictates, OBEY!**_"

**Η**

A ringing silence filled the room as the camera shut off. The various officers and creatures of state stared at the tyrant for a full minute, some forcing down the old fear that had gripped them in the 'halcyon' days of the 99th, reminding themselves that this was just an act, not too far away from what they were used to hearing from the old style Britannian royalty. It was an act, wasn't it?

Even Kaguya Sumeragi, who had seen the warlord at the height of his power(and had watched every last one of Zero's speeches), was a little spooked by that smile he had on his face the instant the camera had stopped recording, sarcastic clapping on her end notwithstanding. She had been hustled over into the Tower shortly after the upheaval began (her protests ignored), logically still the safest place to take cover from it.

"Wonderful rant, Lelouch. I see that you are far from out of practice in terms of oratory. Now, will you come with me so that we can… Are you even listening to me?" The Madame President huffed irritably, staring at the currently grinning overlord, whose hair had shifted in front of his eyes. "Look, I don't have time for you to have another breakdown or for you to brood over…"

She was interrupted by the beginnings of a raspy, almost burn-out sounding chuckle from Lelouch. "Hehhhehehhhehahaha... It's been years, far too long since I've done this last…huhuhuhuhuuuhh…" He breathed rapturously.

Kaguya gave an impatient sigh, having none of this. "Yes, it's been years since you've last had an opportunity to piss off the whole—YEEK!" She had leapt backwards, nearly falling, fighting angrily to regain her composure: Lelouch had tossed back his head, flinging the hair out of his eyes, but at the same time was giving the young official the most utterly psychotic look of glee she had ever seen. "This is the most **_FUN_** I've had in AGES! You have no idea how much I missed doing this. I only went this far ONCE in the whole of my rule!" The warlord hissed with relish. His face hardened for a moment. "**I hope that it works**."

Fighting down the urge to throw another punch at him, she spoke, deadpan, looking directly to the side of his face. "I'm so happy for you. Don't… make that face at me again, please. I would prefer not to be reminded of what, exactly, I am in the same room with. Really, as fun as it would be to watch more of your ranting at the world, I have a job for you. And I need it done within the next half-hour. So cut the crazy to a minimum."

The overlord leant forward with a smirk, eyes glimmering mischievously.

"You're starting to sound like a spoil-sport, Miss Sumeragi. Surely you're not that hard to please? Or will you be a bit more fun after I finish this job for you, whatever it is?"

He got another bland stare in response, before she closed her eyes, summoning the patience that had served her well over the years, then spoke, as calmly as she could manage. "I need for you…to deal with those hyenas representing the UFN council. I received a message in transit to here that they wanted to have a video conference with you. Badly. It's getting worse by the minute, everyone arguing over what to do with you. So I need you to go down to the media suite and…" She trailed off, seeing his eyes narrow in malicious anticipation, the left hand twitching in a claw-like way.

"Damn! There's no way you're going into that room without me now, is there? You'd start scaring them to death, or worse, give them a tyranno-absurdist lecture. I have to make sure you behave yourself, warlord boy." She said resignedly, beginning to walk off.

"You really ARE no fun, Madame President. Can I at least needle them a little? Pleeeeeeease? They deserve it, you know. A little reminder of what they've done wrong. Also, I find a little terror mixes rather well with democracy. It speeds things up _remarkably_ well…" the warlord cajoled gleefully, the pitch of his voice going unusually high.

_If there is ANY kind of God out there who listens to politicians, give this one patience…PLEASE._

Without stopping, her back to him, Kaguya ground out her response.

"Do you want me to take you seriously? That's what I'm trying **very** hard to do right now. Do you understand what I'm doing? I'm treating you as a head of state, even though right now you seem like a head case with a private army. Please, for the sake of this… politically _insane_ alliance, at least try to act like the former. You do have allies, or at least potential ones within the UFN besides me, you know. You have to notice them too. Or else this little scenario you've gotten yourself stuck in will get much worse. So get with the**"

*HAAACK—nnnfh*

Kaguya froze. _What did he just...?_

"I believe the word you were going to finish with was 'program', Miss Sumeragi? So, what pieces have you got for me to work with?...Is this voice _better_?" Lelouch inquired frostily.

_Oh, and you have the right to complain…_

She looked over her shoulder for a moment, knowing as she did so that it STILL might not be worth the effort… And with satisfaction she noted the pronounced scowl on his face.

_YESSS! I finally brought him down! Now, if I can keep him on task..._

She allowed a brief smirk to play across her lips, just long enough to see her opposite's eyes narrow slightly.

"Much better, but I'd prefer a less hostile tone. Xing Ke and Prince Sukarit would certainly like to help you, if you don't scare them off, that is. In fact, most of the Southeast Asian and African representatives seem more curious about what you have to say than anything else. For the most part though, anyone else major enough wants you dead. On that note, Britannia's remained totally silent. To everyone. This is really disturbing. I can understand Empress Cornelia being out of action, what with her going into labor and all, but Guilford was talking to me throughout that crisis with the mercenaries. He mentioned that his master's last command before going incoherent was to mount a strike on the Tower before noon." She stopped as Lelouch raised a palm, his eyes going intensely serious, the mind behind them moving rapidly. "They're going on with the strike, no question about it. With the military network in disarray, they can attack at any time. And if I'm thinking this through correctly, this strike will be led by the Knights of the Round, with Guilford commanding, in all likelihood. In this case, we can't afford to waste time. I need to be readying the defense personally, or they'll crash right through. Sorry Madame President, but your politics take a back seat as of now. Tamaki!" He barked, frowning, striding past the infuriated official.

To the surprise of many, the inept former Black Knight had been put to work as a majordomo by the Emperor, as well as a general henchman. He hurried up, looking a little uncomfortable in the baroque burgundy uniform he had been given.

"Yes boss, erm, yes my Emperor?" He asked, trying to sound less rough than usual, and not quite succeeding.

"Inform General Tohdoh that I'm taking command of all forces under our axis of control. Right now, he needs to fall back to the Tower perimeter, even if it means losing ground. The Britannians will hit from the air, and I need our ground forces in a position where they won't be needlessly torched. I know Guilford. He won't let anything stand in his way, no matter the cost. With luck, the traitor Knights won't figure this out in time. But that's unimportant really. Surviving the next few hours IS. Now get moving. The General needs this information NOW. What are you all standing around for? To your stations!" The warlord snapped to the room at large, the officers and various officials scurrying through the exits to wherever they were needed.

The Emperor stood still in the centre of the room, dusted off his hands, inhaled the resultant mix of pulverized solvents and concrete residue, and then walked over to one of the few totally intact walls of the chamber.

"Now that's out of the way, I can finally get to work..." the war lord hissed, seemingly oblivious to the fuming woman behind him, running his hands over the wall.

"By work, you mean what I ordered you to do, _right_?" she asked, tone going dangerously soft.

Still ignoring her, he stopped his right hand over a particular spot, then tapped it three times in a roughly triangular motion. Instantly, a panel slid up and back, revealing a key pad. He tapped a number, and then the wall whirred. A sound of hydraulics working filled the air for a moment. The wall panel slid down, and a spartan elevator compartment revealed itself. "I'm doing exactly what you want, Madame President. I'm making our position less suicidal, the best way I can. However..."

He pressed the button to keep the doors open, still not turning around.

"You can stay here, be safe from potential mishaps, maybe even go to the communication suite if you feel like it. The War Room is now exposed to the open air thanks to those damned mercenaries, and is also at a level closer to the fighting. You WILL be vulnerable to all the hazards of a modern battle: sniper fire, stray rounds, hadron backwash... If you want to follow me, keep all of this in mind..." he stated tonelessly. He paused, took in a breath to speak again, but was cut off.

"Do NOT lecture me on danger. And if you are going to force me to go along with your war, don't waste my time, either!" The official snapped, speedily trotting past him into the elevator, then turning on her heel to sneer at him. "After all, I survived **You**, _Demon King_. Remember that the next time you even _dare_ think of lecturing me."

For a moment, the warlord just stared at her in surprise. His expression shifted, from pained, to shocked, to what she could swear for a split-second was something like arousal, then slowly settling into a grim, if satisfied smirk. "Very well, Miss Sumeragi. I grant you the privilege of leading us to Hell. You are most welcome there..." Lelouch drawled, with a strangely smug demeanor, stepping into the lift.

As the lift doors closed, the warlord turned to regard her coldly. "...But for your information, Miss Sumeragi, you survived because it was _my_ will. **I** chose to let you live. You should be grateful." He hissed, his tone going somewhere between haughty and... reproachful?

_You complete... BASTARD! You expect me to..._

"I locked you away from the world, and kept you safe in the process. I made certain that you suffered no abuses in there. I even put your cell in the most secure part of the complex; had any fighting broken out, you would still be safe. What have I done to you to earn this anger?"

Memories began flooding back of that day, three years ago. The day when she was going to meet with _her_ unmasked Zero. She was going to work with the intelligent young man who won the freedom of Japan, to make the world a more peaceful place. She had thought that maybe, with all the sweeping reforms he had passed, that the power hadn't gone to his head in the least. Maybe she'd even get to talk to him in private, after this was all said and done. Everything should have been fine. The moment she saw that mocking smile, she knew otherwise. It said quite plainly, "Thank you for so generously walking into my trap, you fool."

The UFN president ground her teeth, her eyes stinging. Her voice shook a little with her next words.

"Even after that debacle with the Black Knights, I still trusted you. The man who freed Japan could be given a second chance, right? I gave you that chance, and then you threw it back in my face. You betrayed my trust. And I am _never_ going to forget that. Or let _you_."

Save for a few deep, calming breaths, the rest of the short trip downwards was very quiet, Lelouch staring into the doors blankly, shoulders slumped.

**Η**

They had started out a mere blur on the horizon, even to those personnel using binoculars and other instruments. Within a second of being sighted, the blurred warship suddenly went into overdrive, stopping only when it loomed over the residential district, its dagger-like bow pointed at the soaring parapets of the Tower. As soon as it stopped, hundreds and thousands of missiles and anti-aircraft rounds flew at it from every upward angle, all other sounds becoming subsumed by the wailing shriek of propellant rockets and the barks of cannon-fire. A massive explosion filled the sky, so that it seemed like the sun itself had descended through the miasma of smoke. And the incendiary display grew, more rounds, more rockets, more directed energy poured into the black smoke and bright flames. Suddenly, lances of deathly white energy came snarling out from the explosion like bolts thrown by a wrathful deity of old, punishing those who defied its will. The effect amounted to the same thing, really. Tanks were torn asunder. Artillery platforms were sliced into burning, stinking slag. Knightmares fell apart, either ripped in half or pounded into the ruined concrete, the once cutting edge weapons of Man reduced to their component parts.

The legions of all sides scattered and retreated before the _Crusade Manifest _as it slowly, almost haughtily, floated through the cloud of smoke, its' teal barriers shining undiminished, unwavering. It reached the Tower perimeter unmolested, and simply sat there. Bays on its sides opened up revealing hulking figures of glimmering colored armor.

At the front of the craft, five more doors opened to show five shining metal knights, all with their own colors and markings, as well as their own unique weapons: A great lance, ringed with kinetic accelerators; a mighty axe, it's serrated blades slowly rotating on their belt; a particle beam-scythe, the steel hand holding it twitching slightly in anticipation; two long blades, each welded solidly onto a sturdy wrist, crossed above a plated chest; a gigantic one-handed rifle, MV bayonet extended.

The word was given, and then they launched.

* * *

The Doctor considered himself a man of peace, out of all the things he knew of himself. The Time War, as far as he was concerned, was a nasty exception that shouldn't have happened, and did not change that status. He also knew of himself as a Judge. From a certain angle, the accusations of being a 'space cop' were quite true. From another, that was a puerile misunderstanding. Every once in a while, his decisions would lead to stars going nova, galaxies flying apart, and civilizations who had gone too far ceasing to exist. As far as he was concerned, he was in the right. Most of the time, he had given those who angered him a very clear, even polite, chance to stop whatever they were doing and find another way. This was reasonable and fair, as a judge should be. In the old days, there were times when he didn't even give them that. He HAD mended his ways! He'd even tried to reason with the DALEKS, for Rassilon's sake! So why did all the legions of the cold stars still refuse his potentially helping hand?

He shifted in the cushioned seat, staring idly up at the contacts shifting about like excited insects on the map screen. It left a bitter feeling every time his attempts to play fair were rejected. But what, or rather who, he was dealing with now both intrigued and galled him. Normally, he loathed the military, regardless of time or place, as a load of wasted talent, minds, and lives, all spent in killing or enforcement instead of something really useful or creative. All those obedient little tin soldiers were so BORING to talk to, no scientific interest at all! And they're so blunt, so unable to comment with any interest on the weird things they confronted alongside him. And with the latest trigger happy crazie to work with him, this loathing was at a level he hadn't seen in years.

He aimed a baleful look at the insignia branded into the bare steel above the screens. "Bloody maniac..." the Time Lord muttered to himself. A schizoaffective, split-persona-ed, egotistical, blood thirsty soldier-king, who thought little of enslaving or seducing thousands of men and women to his will, and (this made his blood boil) had set about ordering him around with even less respect than those bothersome U.N.I.T. generals, lying to him repeatedly. FURTHER, he'd gotten the Chronarch thrown into this pointless battle, stuck on the other side of the world from where he really needed to be. Why was he even working with him anyway? Lelouch was just as bad as some of the worst monsters he had ever brought down!

The Time Lord closed his eyes, and puffed out a frustrated sigh. And yet...

His henchmen were an interesting crowd, who seemed to be decent people, despite being of a military sort themselves. Besides the unwilling but seemingly happy fanatical Letters, there was that bizarre family of three, Margrave Jeremiah the cyborg, Sayoko the ninja-maid , and Anya the enforcer.

From what they had told him (which, for obvious reasons, he at first took with grain of salt), they were Lelouch's family retainers, in the feudal style of things, his knights. Their loyalty was of the old-fashioned kind that made him smile a little, entirely separate from the fascist style of the Letters. Apart from the enthusiasm they put into their work (and the theme-ing of their costumes) they appeared to be fairly normal. Thus, he was able to take them seriously when they spoke of the war lord being a kind master. He'd disbelieved them for a moment, but found no signs of exaggeration or lying. He would have to keep that in mind for the long term, in case he would be forced to bring the game to a close.

The other people to consider were what the Time Lord tentatively called the Consorts, the pieces in the long game that if he could sway to his side, would win it for him. First to be wary of was the strange, viridian-haired adept calling herself C2. Sharp witted, and with a mind to equal that, she was already formidable enough without taking into account her offensive and intrusive psychic abilities. She was also loyal to Lelouch, the reason for which being fairly obvious. Normally, he would leave her be simply for that reason, but he had spotted something a few days before that opened up a few possibilities. If he wasn't mistaken, despite her apparent proficiency with the power, the actual 'Geass' itself could become unstable within certain parameters, in this case, emotion. With a cold smile of his own, he remembered the exact nature of that emotion, having seen a lesser version of it recently: Jealousy.

The target of said jealousy, however, was frustratingly beyond his reach, one of the most crucial pieces on the board: The fierce and fanatically loyal amazon, Kallen Kouzuki. Part of what made her difficult is that Lelouch had put her on guard, with an almost insufferably smug feel of making it grindingly obvious. Because if he so much as sneezed wrong in her presence, or worse, in front of her boss... He didn't really want to think what she'd do to him. If he ever tried to engage her even in something as banal as the weather, she'd scan it carefully for some sort of threat, like the paranoid soldier-type she already was.

What bugged him most though was that he couldn't quite understand why they were so loyal, what they saw in him, as neither of them did so under the sway of the Geass. Seduction seemed like the most plausible answer, given the cold charm he seemed to exude when calm, as well as a manipulative talent that would make his Seventh incarnation proud. But that didn't seem like the whole answer, only part of it. The way the warlord and his Grey Witch moved around each other, as well as the teasing manner they treated each other with at mealtimes, didn't remind him so much of a teenage couple as it did a married and adult one. It was as if they had made a pact similar to the vows, but without any of the formality.

At a glance, he could say that, _biologically_, the green haired witch was a well-developed sixteen year old girl. Her _mind_ couldn't be further from that. As far as he had dared to ask, he had found her Far older than anyone else on that farm, somehow. She'd clammed up the moment he used the word 'centuries' as a guess of how old she was, which proved his hunch instantly.

And now that he thought it over, he felt his millennia-old bones creak with how familiar the answer was: Loneliness. Boredom. Despair.

He shook his head vigorously, as if ridding it of fleas or cobwebs.

He couldn't weaken himself with his own problems. Not here, not now.

He was about to consider the fiery bodyguard, then gave up on it, not wanting to bring back some of his most recent painful memories so quickly.

So he stared around the cockpit, bored silly. Lelouch had forbade him from leaving the Crowley until the situation had stabilized. At the moment, the only other people in that massive hanger were the somewhat dreary Zero (idling inside the NKR-01) and Kallen(inside her own tailored instrument of death), and neither of them felt like chatting.

The Time Lord started going through the com channels, looking for something somehow less boring than the chatter from further a field. Alpha-Nine: "DEATH TO THE TRAITORS! GLORY TO THE-"

Thralls. Not easy on the eardrums when excited, he noted, rubbing his ears as he quickly switched the channel. KING-SWORD.

"You are most persistent in your opinions, ladies and gentlemen, still quite determined to see your own ways through. I'll warn you now, I'm fast losing patience with this stupidity. You are small, and your judgments are still impotent." Sneered a familiar voice gloatingly._ Sounds like _**he's** _having fun_, the Doctor thought glumly, half-tempted to switch the channel, but continuing to listen.

"So says the madman and war criminal with only an army to rule over! If you do not surrender, we will grind your smirking face into the dust like a criminal deserves!" Snarled a man with a sharp Marseilles accent. Various other enraged cries flavored with the sounds of Europe and Central Asia filled the airwaves, punctuated by a low, mocking chuckle.

"ORDER! This is helping to solve NOTHING! Monsieur Corapp, if you will not calm down, and more importantly stop agitating the rest of this assembly, I will shut you and any others speaking for France out of this conference! Now will you kindly SETTLE DOWN?" The voice of the irate Kaguya Sumeragi shouted, beginning to go hoarse.

"FOUL! The President is standing right next to him!" Roared a distinctly Knightsbridge originating voice, along with fluting accents of the Orient attempting to shout over this.

And then... "SIIIIIIIIIIILENCE!"

And so there was silence. For it was the normally soft-spoken Prince Sukarit who had put forth that bellow, and no one in their right mind had expected it.

The representative of the Protectorate Kingdom of Siam cleared his throat, then spoke, with a crisp, stoic diction. "Requesting the floor, addressing the Former Ninety-ninth Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire, Madame President, in order to perhaps mete out a solution."

"Granted." Kaguya said, sounding relieved.

There was a 'tchah!' from the warlord, but the Thai man went on to speak. "As a matter of course, Mr. Britannia, we must know exactly what it is we can provide you if we are to resolve this... kerfluffle peacefully. To begin with, are we correct in the terms that you are no longer a part of the Holy Britannian Empire? That you are no longer entitled with the privileges of the Royal Family of said empire?"

"Yes, to both... Please use Lamperouge when you address me, good sir. As you say, I am no longer part of that... obsolete hulk. I'm just a man who wants to make some major changes in the world. You get these men every so often. After all, was it not your grandfather who introduced the Treaty of Phrom-Tanh, which ended the Second World War and enabled peace for three generations? I hold your family in high esteem, Phra Chao Worawongse Ther Phra Ong Chao." The warlord spoke, reciting the title flawlessly.

The assembly went quiet, but mostly out of confusion rather than respect. The Prince, after a snort of amusement, genteelly replied. "_Well_, it's been a while since I've been called that title by someone from outside my country. You are well lettered, Mr. Lamperouge. My thanks. *Eh-hem* What changes did you wish to carry out? But... really, why should we listen to you, regardless of wanting a peaceful resolution? Our country has no real quarrel with you, nor do many nations bordering us." Several murmurs of assent came from the representatives of Burma and Malaysia; Cambodia remained in a sullen silence.

"Simple. I want those under me recognised as an independent nation." Said Lelouch. "Not much to ask for, is it?"

The Doctor puffed out a sigh. _He really is milking this crowd in every way he can, isn't he?_ He thought blandly, switching to another channel. DRAKE. Huh. Is this one of the squad command channels? The Time Lord looked it over, and then found that it required a password. Interest piqued, he activated the TARDIS link he had worked into the acoustic targeting computer, getting the password almost instantly. Mildly surprised that there was no second verification required he started listening in.

"-but of all things, crocheting? How does a Knight even KNOW how to crochet, let alone want to?" howled the voice identified as CD9, male, low register, and sounding as if in his mid-twenties.

"Ever ripped a sock? Torn some slacks, shredded a sleeve? Yeah, this is a pretty handy little hobby I have here, greenie, you should try it. Time killer AND practical." Taunted an much older, even lower registered woman's voice, marked NE5.

There was a pause, an intake of breath, then...

"I'm a KNIGHT! There is no way in Hell I'd do... KNITTING!" Spat CD9.

"Whatever you say, greenie. The next time you get that expensive jacket of yours burnt through, you can't ask me or White hair to patch it up for you. Oh, and knitting isn't the same thing as crocheting." Murmured a roughly middle register female voice, DE7.

"GAH! I don't care, I don't Care! Lets just get moving on to business. Where we can ALL have fun!" Growled CD9.

"Oh no, the topic isn't worn out at all! The first uses a hook to move the yarn. Knitting just uses a needle and thread..." said another low-register female voice (MK4) airily.

The Time Lord snickered upon hearing the truculent CD9 let out a frustrated hiss, noting how his connection to the channel started fluctuating wildly, static making the knight's beginning rant indistinct. "Ohhh, I'm not giving up that easy..." The Doctor muttered, redirecting more power into the transmitter. The interference cleared. Too much. The audio/visual feed activated, and a quintet of faces came up on the screen, all looking annoyed or surprised. The centre face(KR1), that of a young man with straw-blond hair and scowling features that looked like they should naturally be smiling, regarded him balefully. The Chronarch grinned impishly at them all, giving a little wave. "Hello there, I'm the Doctor! Nice talk about sewing there, good effort keeping it up, and yes Miss E, it's a Very handy hobby. Still wrong on what goes where, but oh well. So... I take it you're Britannian knights?" He chirped as blithely as he had done thousands of times before. For a second, they just stared at him. The older woman with the off-white hair raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You could say that. Although I'd like to think we're on a higher level than most..."

"Oh? Higher level of knights? Don't think I've heard of you. Don't know of any Knights of the Strand, Knights of the Garter..." The Chronarch twittered, the wheels of his mind moving at top speed.

The lighting of the video feeds changed to a darker shade of red, each pilot pressing down a switch on the sides of their cockpits.

The blond man fixed him with a look of haughty contempt. "We are the Knights of Round, dog of the 99th, and we will bring your end to you very soon." he announced.

The Time Lord leaned back in his seat, allowing his expression to harden slightly, but not fully dropping the impish smile. Almost the opposite from what I read on him with the git's little bingo book. He should be less serious than this, even under a direct Imperial order. I wonder... He connected the com channel to the main battle-net, saying as he did so, "In other words, all the Queen's horses and all the Queen's men and women. Gino Weinberg, Claudio Darlton, Nonnette Enneagram, Dorothea Ernst, and Monica Kruszewski. Huh. What do you make of this, Colonel?"

Another face appeared on the rapidly expanding holographic screen, followed soon after by the VOC indicators for Kallen and Zero.

The Emperor In The Shadows looked down his nose at the gathered knightly visages(as much as it was possible to do with this system), seeming very grave despite the amount of contempt the gaze held.

"I know why you are here. I understand why you are here as well. In the end, you are in my domain, along with USJ AND UFN airspace. And the Empire usually respects the borders of those latter two, right? You don't seem to understand that you are on unsafe ground, servants of Britannia. Know that I am a tolerant man. I will give you one chance and one chance only, to leave this city with your lives, dignity, and honor intact. Otherwise..."

*Snap*

The illusory wall around the midlevel hanger bay dispersed, unveiling the instruments of bloody work within. The Doctor's Crowley had been standing 'at attention' for quite some time, it's horn-like radio antennae twitching. The Time Lord powered up the engine's weapon systems, carefully setting the acoustic plates. To his sides were the NKR-01(in St. George configuration), lance at the ready and wings extended, and the powerful weapon piloted by Kallen Kouzuki, the latest iteration of the feared Guren: Shuurajou. As much as he despised the purpose of the crimson and black giant, the Doctor found himself admiring the craftsmanship put into it. All smooth lines, no sharp angles. There were finneons to project float wings, but they were of the smooth variety similar to that found in Buddhist designs. The 'head' of the metal beast still had that sort of squat Thracian helmet style to it, but the area around the neck servos had been covered with a choker, like the bottom half of a medieval European plate helmet. The torso armor had been reinforced with a strong fibers, giving it a slightly organic look, almost like musculature. Especially notable, however, were the claws of the machine. In place of the steel right arm, rigged with the mechanisms for the microwave weapon, there was a darkened titanium structure smoothly covering the charge routers for a massive trio of shearing blades, clacking together slowly, red sparks flying whenever they joined. The left claw was a fully articulate hand with six long, deceptively delicate looking digits. Strangely, this was the arm that held the Guren's primary ranged weapon, set into the wrist with the muzzle projecting out from the centre of the palm, the fingers designed to act as a focusing mechanism when the gun was fired.

Behind them were dozens of knightmares equipped for aerial combat, the Aerolancers, frames based off the design of the Vincent Ward, and then modified with facets from the NKR line. These relied on the same combat specialty of the ground-forces, using both their long swords and concussion rifles even at close range. As it stood right then, the odds were equal.

"I will destroy this intrusion utterly. Britannia has no power over me! NONE! Surely you can see that the object of your misguided quest is completely safe in my hands? Your job is over. This. is. completely. foolhardy. So kindly go back to your decaying hulk of a country, before I lose my temper. You have one minute exactly to comply with my demands." Lelouch hissed.

"I'm afraid that will be completely unacceptable." stated a crisp, higher register voice, marked HBE-G1.

Another face appeared on the screen with a tone; bespectacled, hook-nosed, raven haired, and stern as ever, Knight of Honor G.P. Guilford glared furiously at those in his way. "Retrieving Princess Nunnally was and is the primary objective of this mission. The second now in place, also mandatory, is the assured complete destruction of 'That depraved bastard', to quote my Empress. Therefore, there was no room for negotiation or demands to begin with, the exception being that you, Lelouch Lamperouge, die like a dog in the streets!"

The Doctor looked ahead at the warship and the Knights, and saw thirty more knightmares fly out from the sides, red and blue painted chassis clearly visible. He zoomed in on one of them, and noted the grey and red St. John's cross insignia. The data came up immediately after he searched the symbol. Cold Stream guard, Mechanized Company. The only Britannian army unit to nearly equal the Knights of the Round in terms of prestige and respect. This was well earned, as they had the honor of accompanying the Emperors and Empresses themselves into battle. They piloted the new Wight class knightmare frames, armed with MV halberds and VARIS guns built into their right wrists, covered by a round blast shield. Helms forged in the breadbox style of plated Medieval enforcers gleamed in the firelight, the red and green optics covering them blinking on and off in a strangely inhuman way; upon the heavily armoured chest plates were embossed the seal of the Royal Family, glimmering dully. The halberds were drawn up in a half-arch salute while the rifles were folded out and trained on the hanger.

The Doctor was expecting to see a reaction from the warlord. A snort of contempt, a maniacal laugh, maybe even the start of a strange rant. Instead, there was an anger constricted rasp through compressed lips .

"So be it. You've sealed your own fate. You might as well have accepted the task of stopping a hurricane. I have nothing more to say."

Lelouch's face flicked off in the Britannian channel, and flicked back on in the battle network, this time with that familiar smirk. "Tear them from my sky. If you wish, you can just disable the knights, but otherwise fight to kill. They CANNOT be allowed into the Tower. That is the overarching objective here. A war with Britannia would be highly inconvenient, and right now I can't afford any more major setbacks. I will ask of all you 'knights' under my command to fight as if this world depended on it to keep moving. Zero. You know what to do: Protect your princess, atone for yesterday. Doctor. You've fought in wars before, and you fought in the field this morning. Fight as if it was for your home world, however lost it may be. Kallen. It'll be just like the old days, another Red Day. Just remember those days, and today shouldn't be different at all. All others... I don't need to even ask..." He said, clearly and crisply. He appeared to mull things over, idly tapping at the red tactical display outside of the picture. The warlord suddenly lunged forward, teeth bared in a travesty of a smile, bellowing, "**GO FORTH AND WIN ME ANOTHER!**"

**YES, MY EMPEROR.**

**

* * *

**

The Knights of the Shadow Empire roared from their aerie, weapons and armor gleaming in the sickly light of flames and curtained sun. The Cold Stream and the Rounds charged the Tower in counter.

Immediately, the most elite soldiers on either side went straight for each other.

One shone with fresh paint, clearly visible, its lithe frame shifting in the high winds to position the lance onto its side. It's helmet was crafted to resemble that of an Eighteenth Century Britannian dragoon, the brim extending over where the eyes would be to form a visor, while the crest of armor bore a full set of peacock feathers.

The silver/blue zephyr that was _Bors_ raced toward the St. George, the latter raising his lance just in time to realign that of the former with sharp scrape of metal and a shower of sparks, the angel readying a flaying slash with the extendible claws. The knight flinched away from the shearing tendrils, knocking them aside with the lance, then grinding out a point-blank blaze of cannon fire into the float-panel shield. The false founder replied with a vicious series of chops, swings, and thrusts delivered at a sound-barrier breaking speed. The Bors was continually forced to give ground to this assault, manipulating its' deflection barrier to focus around the kinetic lance to give his parrying strikes a margin of error, as well as a blunt element, should he finally connect a blow. The _Bors_ suddenly hurtled backward, flaring its float engines attached to the back of the legs and arms, and then screamed forth in a charge toward the already speeding angel. They slammed their shoulder panels together with a crack like thunder, lances scraping against each other at a diagonal parallel, their free arms grappling. This stalemate went on five more seconds, before they both pushed downward, speeding toward the broken pavement with a shriek of sheering winds and straining engines. A meter before they would hit the street, the angle of the lances shifted, and the two superior frames zipped out toward the few unbroken skyscrapers at ever increasing speed. The skyline became even worse for wear at that moment, the two wildly crashing and slicing throughout it.

One looked to the purple and blue demon, its helm rotating on its neck. Great fin-like 'horns' jutted out facing backwards, twitching slightly like those of its opposite number. Black steel served as a 'mask' for the knightmare, crimson optics peering out. On its enlarged shoulder glowed a miniaturized Factsphere, 'blinking' with the use of its shutter. The left arm itself was gold painted, but constructed from something much stronger, likely some highly rigid polymer, military grade heavy servos working to hold the massive rifle level; said rifle came in roughly three sections, the needle blaze projector, the heavy VARIS cannon, and the MV bayonet. All three glowed with lethal power.

The royal purple and gold titan _Ector_ flew at the Doctor, sending blazes of directed energy into his sonic shield, the Time Lord having determined at the start of this that he would Only knock the pilot from the skies. Thus, he had immediately sprung up onto one of the more European-styled Tower ramparts, where there was sufficient resonance for him to maybe try something new. So far, it wasn't it wasn't working as well as he'd thought it would. A needle trail whipped over the alien head of his knightmare, cutting a sizable gouge into the wall, followed by another volley of magnetically accelerated rounds, rubble clanking off the back of the _Crowley_'s armor. He skated across the walkway, seeking a tunnel for him to lure the Knight of Five into. "Ah-ah-ah, you're not going to lead me on any tour, Doctor. You're going to stay Right here." Chuckled the Knight, another needle blaze slicing through the rampart in front of the Doctor. The frame sagged, and then swung around to send a shrieking wall of sound in reprisal.

"What's wrong? Don't like the architecture?" The Time Lord chided, briefly activating the float wings for a leap over to the other side of the wall.

"Nope. Can't stand tour guides. Don't like Londoners either. Now be a dear and hold still."

Another part of the wall disintegrated with a flash, the _Crowley_ stumbling before lifting off again, concentrating a blast of sound. "Hey, it's not our fault for being a bit... CHEEKY!"

He hadn't expected the bulky knightmare to move so fast, to be right in front of him when he released the charge. The frame had stormed forward after detaching the bayonet from its rifle, using it like a sword. The shape of the frame distorted and warped, as if caught in a heat haze, flying backward in what seemed to be a green bubble. On closer inspection, he saw the war machine was enclosed in the scaled, closely interlocked plates of the barrier. With a roar of static, Nonnette's voice came through the channel, the words friendly, but the tone was completely colorless. "You ARE an interesting one. Let's carry this on just a little longer, shall we?"

To even his own surprise, the Doctor smiled a little, unlocking the blades on the _Crowley_'s arms. "Yes I am and yes we SHALL!"

The Guren blocked another swipe from the _Tristan_'s MV scythe, sending a fireball back at it's owner. The blaze was easily blocked, but there was no follow up to the parry. The red, blue, and bronze painted knightmare just floated there, seemingly weighing the scythe in it's hands. The Guren, however, was not going to stop, punching out with its right claw and boiling the air around it.

"C'mon Gino, I've had warm-ups harder than this! Step it up already! If we're going to have a duel, be a gentleman and give me all you can! I can't go full power unless you do first. It's just not fun!" The Crimson Lotus chided, a cocky grin across her face.

She blasted the space between them with concentrated cone of crackling energy, the _Tristan_ again backing up instead of just cutting through the wave.

Gino's voice came through the channel right as he blocked a jab, again not countering it. The voice was unnaturally cold. "Why did you decide to follow him? I thought you liked your old career..."

The pilot raised an eyebrow, moving the Guren into a brief frenzy of slashing claws, parried and yet again backed away from. "Is it any of your business right now, flyboy? Well, if it clears some things up, no, my old job was BORING. You would know, this is a lot more fun than flying around for tests. Now stop making this duel feel like a flight test! FIGHT ME."

The _Tristan_ Divider suddenly sprang to life, a blaze of white fire forcing the crimson death machine to duck or be decapitated. In that moment, the knightmare snared the Guren's Immolator claw with its MV scythe, yanking it in closer while simultaneously seizing the blaster arm, forcing it to point away. Gino's scowling face flicked into view on the com screen, eyes unusually intense. "Kallen Stadtfeld Kouzuki, you are making a serious mistake. Lelouch is Not worth giving up your ideals for-"

"I think you're the one making a mistake. I told you it was none of your business, Gino..." The Ace said, still smiling, but taking a bit more effort this time. The Guren kicked out, trying to knock it away, but the scythe held fast.

"It is my business, and always will be. I knew you long enough to care about where you go, and what you do with your life." The Knight of One stated curtly.

The crimson war machine opened its claw and shoved, discharging its microwave weapon at the same time set to wide-range, forcing the _Tristan_ to let go. The Guren lunged forward, flaying the air with its claws.

"What are you, my dead older brother? I think I'm old enough to choose what I want to do with my life, thank you Very much!" The Lotus snarled, seizing the knight by the tips of its left hand and readying a surge. It was then that the blue and gold frame did something unexpected, flipping the scythe so that the base of the weapon pointed at the Guren's chest. The small panels covering it splayed out like a metal flower- and then with a flash they contracted into a very thick cudgel, the frame using it to 'punch' the Shuurajou away.

"No, Kallen, I am going to be something very different, because I have to be. A strong and well-bred woman like you needs an equally strong man beside her, in thought and in reality." The Knight of One said, the intensity of his tone increasing disturbingly.

"Gino, what the Hell are you-"

"You BELONG to me, Kallen Stadtfeld Kouzuki. We're to be engaged by order of your father, head of the Stadtfeld line. I'm here to bring you home, Kallen." Gino hissed, trying to snare the Guren a second time. "This can be entirely painless, but only if you give up. This isn't negotiable. You're the only heir he has left."

The red knightmare smacked it away effortlessly, and then... went berserk. The right claw fused together with a blaze of energy, a vicious looking spike. At breakneck speed the Guren launched into a storm of thrusts, jabs, and bludgeoning swipes, driving the _Tristan_ back.

"Well here's a bit of news for you: I belong to NO ONE. Not to you, not to that worthless man back in Britannia! I choose who to follow, not who owns me! Tell my 'father' to shove it! We were equals, maybe even friends, but nothing more! And now you're not even that to me. I'm going to burn you alive until I hear you apologize, GINO WEINBERG!" The Crimson Lotus bellowed, pushing the death machine to maximum power. In a flash, the _Tristan_ sprang to action, countering her furious swings with a blur of metal and energy, the scythe eventually locking with the spike, a torrent of red sparks issuing forth. There was a whirl of motion, and the Guren flung its adversary towards one of the Tower's parapets, the mech launching a blaze of white light back at her as it forced itself to a stop. One moment the Guren was off in the distance, the next shredding through a cone of superheated air twenty feet away from its target.

As the Divider charged the Red Doom at an equal speed, Gino grinned, the com system deactivated. "Now we can really have some fun…" He muttered to himself.

* * *

It can be said that the more improbable something sounds, the less likely it is to function in reality. Such was never the case for the Orange Family, who were currently fighting off two more of the Knights using a mix of acrobatics and standing still. Such silly notions as not using every piece of the environment in a fight(including the enemy themselves) made Sayoko shake her head in despair. What were tacticians thinking these days if they didn't want soldiers to win? As such, she and the Hanzo bounced from surface to surface, slashing away at the two larger knightmares.

"Jeremiah, give me a hand! Anya, throw me a line!"

"Got it, Mom!"

The Hanzo fired its own line, snaring the slash harpoon and letting the float wings do their work. The knightmare swung through the air, bouncing off the shields of the Wight frames and dodging their blows easily.

A well-timed slice from her katana separated a guard from his flight pack, the pilot ejecting from the tumbling machine, rocketing away towards the warship. A massive claw slammed into another, providing a perch for the Hanzo to alight upon. The machine ducked to avoid a short volley of missiles, then turned to face whoever had launched them. She managed to raise her katana just in time to parry the massive axe blow swung down at her, the frame shaking from holding back the chained weapon.

_Tor_ had risen. A horned helmet, domed and steely, and optics the color of the sun at high noon loomed over the ninja-like frame, its gaze somehow holding a chill menace, perhaps due to the creasing of the surrounding metal. The torso armor was done with a scaled pattern, not unlike a roman legionary, thick to the point where not even anti-armor rounds could pierce it. Its legs were heavily plated, made to hold the frame down when it took a swing.

The large orange and white mech bore down, pulling its diamond-hardened left gauntlet back for a punch.

"Hah!"

The harken line held as Sayoko boosted off the metal mitt, and the _Tor_ overbalanced, its punch going wild. The massive titanium manipulator closed with a bang, starting to crush the frame within.

"NO ONE SNEAK ATTACKS MY WIFE!" Jeremiah roared, tightening the Ziz's grip.

"And you don't kill my partner, traitor." Said the voice of Dorothea Ernst.

A hail of bullets ripped into the claw servos and the giant was forced to open it to replace the armor over them. Jeremiah Gottwald grimaced as he turned to look at the Omnisensor screen.

The _Aglovale_ was there, its sleek green and white frame shifting from side to side. The red visor of the Landsknecht sallet helm glowed, pinpointing all the vectors that could even slightly damage the behemoth. The blades attached to its arms buzzed, igniting fully into MVS'; the guns bolted into place across its silhouette whirred, reloading. The moment before it began firing its arsenal, the Ziz swung a massive claw toward the _Aglovale_. With barely the slightest use of power, the knight blasted out of the way, riddling the giant with AA rounds. In reprisal, slash harpoons fired from its shoulders, swinging around as blades on string. A volley of shells pounded into it's side, launched by the _Tor_. The Hanzo bounced off the Ziz' torso plating and slammed into the knight before it could launch another. They crashed down on top of an allied airship, the ninja keeping a hold on the Ziz' slash harpoon. A sweep of its axe would have bisected her if the Hanzo hadn't had the ability to bend over backwards. She snapped forward, countering another axe blow with the middle section of the katana, pushing the knightmare back.

Inside the Dreadnought, the pink-haired enforcer let loose a frustrated sigh.

"Dad, why can't we stop playing around and just knock them out?"

The cyborg smiled mysteriously. "Just hold off a little longer, Anya, and you'll understand why we're not taking them out."

She looked to the targeting controls for the slash harpoons, then whirled back around to face him, eyes wide. "Do you mean- The master has a plan?" She said breathlessly.

Jeremiah let a little bit more wickedness into that smile. "The master always has a plan. But you'll really like this one..."

"He let you know first? No fair." Anya groused, turning back around with an anticipatory grin.

Somewhere deep within the Tower, a Witch lay in wait. The cockpit buzzed with a hundred different frequencies all quietly operating at once. She watched one particular snarl of audio carefully, waiting for the words that would let her make her partner smile with glee once the deed was done. She liked it when he was pleased... All the better to puncture his ego, there and then. And yet...

"It's better thought out than most." The Gray Witch whispered to herself. "Still, not lacking in blood spilled. Oh well."

C.C. was the kind of person who enjoyed watching the complexities and gambits of history, one of the few things that kept her sane over the long centuries. The plans of her latest partner took on such a byzantine level that she found it an almost unending source of entertainment. Seeing them snap off, one after another in rapid succession was like watching one of those new-fangled supercomputers at work, but with more explosions. She'd started to like those, too.

She would admit to liking his expression and the emotions he bled off at these moments of triumph, shortly before knocking the wind from his sails. As for whenever a plan failed, and she found herself saving his arse, C.C. would never let him hear the end of it. Yet when something went horribly, horribly wrong, she couldn't bring herself to pile on the taunting. The one time she did, he'd had a near-complete breakdown. Not fun. Not in the least. Complete 180 from what she was used to.

The rapid recovery Lelouch displayed in the most massive set back he had suffered in 4 years was refreshing, entertaining... And a little frightening. She knew what went on in his mind, and what she knew was a frenzy of rage, hate, and murderous desire. C.C. had to pull out of his head lest she herself succumb to the fury. Really, she could truly understand now why Mao went completely and horribly insane. It wasn't just the information overload, it was the various foul impulses that 99.9% of all humanity possessed at any time. The Witch had developed a bond with her Daemon, within a certain distance able to share their thoughts. Which was part of why she was on the other side of the building. The other part...

"Monsieur Corapp, I really am at a loss as to why you persist in this inanity. It's obvious what I want, why can't you just give it to me? Scared of little young me and my army? Really, I'm not worth kicking up a fuss over, as you seem keen to repeat ad nauseam..." the monarch drawled, looking at the aged and oddly square face before him with undisguised contempt. A few keys were tapped, and the battlefield view was connected into the UFN network.

"As you can see, the Black Knights of South Africa and Russia were both routed. Further, their positions are now covered by my own battlenet. It is completely hopeless to resist me in the field as well as through the diplomatic channels. I am giving you one chance to redeem yourselves. Withdraw every last man and woman from this battlefield, or I will not stop until there no one left to withdraw. I don't make threats, only promises and ultimatums. You have one hundred and twenty seconds to tell me that this is done. Make Your Choice!" He growled, his lips curling into a sneer.

Don't give them the chance! Do it! DO IT! Get me video links and then KILL THEM ALL!

The voice screamed at the back of his skull, wrestling away the other two personae. Lelouch's blood was running hot again, and his neuroses were feeding on that. The monster was on the rise.

From the viewscreen, he could see the shock and fear on all their faces. They would crack any second now, and this entire debacle would come to an end. All that he had to do now was defeat the Britannian task force. Maybe he wouldn't even have to bring in his biggest trump card. Denying his enemies both outside and literally inside was key here. He wanted the Black Knights command structure to be at least functionally intact, seeing as only half of the hemispheral divisions had gone rogue. One more prompt...

" You do understand what you'll be held responsible for should you not come to a decision, right? You can't give that line about, 'We don't negotiate with terrorists', can't puff yourself up in self-righteous defiance. You comply, I let your people withdraw. Think about your people, ladies and gentlemen. Or, failing that, think of your own reputations. I see a few notes of resignation in your futures..." The warlord trailed off with a smirk. At his side, Kaguya Sumeragi pinched the bridge of her nose.

_Come on, give the poor girl a rest from all the hammy antics. We didn't have to do the time limit, did we?_

**Oh yes, we did. Those pencil-pushers won't move fast without a fire lit under their arses. And she looks strong enough to handle a little more, wouldn't you agree?**

Ahhhahhaha, this is so. Nothing worse than usual. We're not actually doing anything to her now, are we? ARRRRE WE-

'No, we're not. Shut up so I can hear myself think.'

Nononono. You have an obligation to your Id. I called it. Your plan didn't work. A global catharsis bringing world peace? Hah! Well, I can't complain with the result-

'I said Shut up. It will work. As soon these people sign off on saving what's left of their men, we can focus on the REAL problems, Saxon and Britannia. That enough blood for you?'

Hhnnnn... Okay, that's good enough. Hehheheheh. A few of them are going to refuse anyway. See? See that stupid defiance? We're going to have a Euro bloodbath on our hands.

As the representatives of the Orient and Africa scrambled to make their ceasefire known, ten men and women stared at him with unmasked hate. Chief among them was the British representative, Peter Gosling, who, of all things, was actually smirking at him!

"You can't take all of us. You had millions under your command once, but now? You're having trouble fighting off a Britannian strike force. Even if you manage to hold them off, we're not giving up so easily. You and your Suppression Battalions raped our nations. The collective might of Europe will not-"

" Twenty three seconds. Twenty two. Twenty one. Are you sure your own people will ever forgive you? Nineteen..." Lelouch hissed, a gleeful smile across his lips.

Kaguya seized his arm, looking furious. "That's enough, all of you. This is a summit to make peace, not threats!"

The Frenchman stared relentlessly on into the warlord's eyes, saying without breaking his gaze, "We attended this session in order to see if the rest of the Federation would see sense. Obviously this was futile."

"Fourteen. Thirteen. They did. You didn't. Too bad. Nine-"

"We will not stand for a monster like you returning to power. Neither will our people." Growled the Mongolian delegate.

"Then you won't stand at all, Mongol. Five. Four."

The Ten chanted as one. "We. Will."

"Two. One. Zero. My, but your dedication is strong. And thoroughly disgusting." Lelouch snarled, the smile now gone. "Do you have any idea what war with me entails? Suicide. The rest of you ladies and gentlemen have shown some wisdom. However temporary that is. Oh don't look at me like that. Truce, in order to reload one's gun, is always a viable strategy. The ten of you, on the other hand, are as sound as a stampeding herd of elephants. It is my now my **w**ill a**s k**ing that we are formally at war. Care to see what happens to those who just charge me without a plan?"

**Η**

Out on the broken courtyard of the Tower, thousands of infantrymen and pilots watched the battle above, taking their shots whenever the action got close enough. Those not actively taking part in the fight watched the distant duels from improvised bunkers. They saw flashes of light and fire around the skyscrapers, distant clashes of weapons on armor. The two shapes then began zooming back towards the Tower, lances clattering. Past the warship they went, ricocheting off the frigates. A slam like thunder, and the dragoon was hurled toward the ground, its lance ejecting sparks. The float-wings flared out from it's calves in an attempt to slow the descent, but the angel above was to have none of it. Claw-tendrils whipped downward, snaring the knightmare, then pinning it to the ground. A metal hand rose to defiantly seize one of the tendrils, only to freeze in place as motor control was disrupted. The _Bors_ deactivated, its pilot trapped inside. The St. George came down to rest atop a pile of rubble, indicating that personnel retrieve this new prisoner.

**Η**

"You see, I always prepare for the worst," the warlord hissed. "and this is nothing."

The red holo-display shifts, two Britannia-aligned markers being re-designated friendly.

**Η**

The _Ector_ blasted down the causeway, VARIS discharging at an increased rate. The _Crowley_ in return kept it's sonic field constant, letting loose a wave to slow the other slightly. Much of the battlements on their level had be wrecked beyond repair as a result. In fact, some parts of it wouldn't hold up any longer. The purple and blue mech raced ahead, dodging and weaving with practiced ease around the VARIS rounds and blazes. Through a tunnel in the fortification the alien demon sped, the _Ector_ following. Once on the other side, the Crowley turned round and let loose every ounce of acoustic power at its disposal to resonate through the structure. The knight put up shields, but as a result, all of her visual systems went blurred. She plowed through into the other side, only to find nothing there.

"Gotcha!"

There was all the warning Nonnette Enneagram got before the tunnel collapsed on top of her frame, pinning it.

The Time Lord opens the cockpit of his own frame, checking the pile of rubble for life-signs.

**Η**

"Five. Little. Knights." Lelouch spat. "Care to see what I can do with two of those?"

**Η**

Behind all that armor and circuitry, the pilots of the _Tor_ and _Aglovale_ grin in psychically-induced euphoria. Targeting reticules are readjusted, weapons are charged, thrusters are fired.

"Fire to disable and emasculate..."

**Η**

"What havoc the hand of a traitor can wreak! What plans can be utterly destroyed!" The Emperor gloats. "What small endeavors can become utterly pointless in his or her wake!"

**Η**

With a roar like thunder, the crimson death machine that is the Guren Shuurajou charges its prey, primary claw burning white, power at full. The _Tristan_ responds in kind, scythe held high. The pair of death machines strike each other, the Guren holding the scythe still by the shaft. The microwave emitter activates, and the _Tristan_ lets go of the weapon before it is destroyed, firing away with his chest mounted guns. The red war machine dodges these with ease, blasting off it's own air-searing barrage. The _Tristan_ is forced to slow down slightly to avoid being hit. Which is all the Guren needs to get in close. Millions of pounds worth of material melts with a shriek of metal and a triumphant shout, coming to rest on another of the Tower's causeways. Gino Weinberg stares up at the cockpit ceiling with a satisfied grin, before allowing himself to pass out.

Bullets and anti-armour rounds slam into the barrier luminators, then weapons control, the fire coming from the absolute last expected position. Smoking and toothless, the _Crusade Manifest _hangs in the air like a shining storm cloud, unable to retreat, and unable to proceed. Meanwhile, the Sieg Ziz looms above it. There is a series of clanks and whirrs, and then what appears to be a great cannon rises up and over from it's back to above the helmet-like head. Inside, a mechanically augmented hand reaches for the big black button, only to be smacked away by a much daintier one.

"Only Mom gets to push the Big Button." Reprimanded Anya.

**Η**

"You can do nothing to me. Even though your forces outnumber mine, I will carry the day. Your decision to oppose me was presumptuous." Lelouch von Britannia nee Lamperouge sneered, feeling the urge to laugh rising. The various diplomats and representatives look either afraid, angry, or forcibly neutral. The Russian delegate speaks, determined.

"We oppose you for what you did to our nations, monster. Our peoples want justice. You had your chance-"

"So did YOU. No "justice" will be served today, save for that of the man wronged today. Save for the man who knows when he cannot lose. Save for the man who will have his Country by the day's end!" The Overlord was outright grinning now, the feelings of triumph roaring to the forefront. "You will lose everything you stood to gain from this. Your armies, the respect of your people..."

The coup-de-grace of this whole rant, one press of a button away.

Do it!

The Hanzo links up with the Sieg Ziz, its pilot transferring from one cockpit into another. Jeremiah and Anya grin. This is only the second time the Aegis Cannon has ever been fired. For them, and for Sayoko to a degree, it's the most expensive and lethal fireworks display they'll ever see. The maid's finger hovers over the button, waiting for the command.

The warlord stands, fingers aligning all cameras to focus on the Zieg Ziz and it's steaming cannon. He slams a palm down into the solid part of the display, pointing with the other hand.

"Do you see that cannon? It is one of the most powerful weapons in my arsenal. Care for a demonstration?"

The Family Orange appears on the screen, faces lit a cold blue. They are beginning to get twitchy with anticipation. Sayoko is the one to speak.

"The weapon is primed, sir. Permission to fire?"

Lelouch glances at the French delegate for a moment, then hisses.

"Granted. Now, see truly what you are dealing with."

The cannon glows, white light spiralling around it with increasing acceleration, the air boiling around it, becoming like a cloud. A low roar became audible.

- "Aegis Cannon is at full power. Commence firing in 3...2...1...0."-

A white gloved hand came down on the button. And then it seemed as if the Sun itself had come down, everything going a blinding white. The was no sound, save for the ear-splitting howl of forcibly-created gale force winds in the blowback. The glow subsided, and the Britannian warship was still there, barely hovering, the various knightmares clinging to it's sides. Off in the distance, a hole had been bored into Mount Fuji, burning white hot; around it, fourteen smoldering black marks were charred into the sides.

The Warlord stood, teeth gleaming, his audience both on the channel and in the room wearing either appalled or impressed expression.

"_**T****here go your regrouping airships, Gentlemen. How does it feel to know this war is already won? What can you do to me?**_"

The Russian Delegate found his voice. "One cannon. That's all you-"

**SLAM.**

Standing at full height, face flush with triumph, Emperor Lelouch grinned down at those he thought were becoming mere gnats against his will.

"_**What. Can. You. Do? NOTHING! My demand is that you Surrender, Before-**_"

***CRACK***

From close range, the bullet went straight through the monarch's heart from behind and out through the front. The assailant was immediately tackled to the ground, but not before he managed to turn the weapon on himself.

"Whaaaaathhachhhhh-"

A hand was tightly held to the profusely bleeding wound, the Daemon King reeling backwards in shock.

***CRACK***

The second shot came from below, from one of the towers untouched by the assault, personnel rushing it with guns and bayonets. The second round burst right through Lelouch's voicebox to break against the wall, blood splattering everything and everyone in the vicinity. The Emperor doubled over, frantically switching off the conference link just as he retched blood onto the device. The thralls moved to assist him, but he threw out an arm to hold them back. A horrible realization seemed to hit him as he jerkily looked downward, into the rumble far below. He turned his head to look at Kaguya, directly into her eyes, a sadly resigned and apologetic expression on his face. He mouthed the next words. "Look Away."

***CRACK***

With the third shot, the top half of Lelouch v. Britannia's head came apart in an explosion of blood, brain matter, bone, and hair. Then, once her eyes were open, the President screamed.

* * *

**Tappita tap. Tappita tap...**

**Everyone, this is Eta. Please tell me what you think, and I will continue editing this beast. I won't bore you with the reasons for why this was so late, but they are many. And they will not happen again.**

**Again, tell me what was good, as well as what needs improvement.**

**Also, yes, Monica and Dorothea being alive will be explained. Not as simple as "they survived" either.**


End file.
